Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


“Possibilities on a Winding Path” (standard:Inspirational stories, 6168 words)
Author: kickboxrkoAdded: Sep 13 2003Views/Reads: 3634/2479Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A story about a young, charismatic teenager, who has been given the chance of a lifetime. He can leave a mark in the world or he can blow it big time. This is his journey. It will be updated.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

couldn't keep it to himself. He offended a local gang leader with his 
way with words. He needed his friend Pablo to get him out of it. He 
could always count on him to lend a hand. And he was right in thinking 
so. Pablo was always there to help him. No matter the situation. But 
Pablo could also dissipate many situations too. But no matter what he 
could do, it wouldn't help him this time. Pablo and Jose were walking 
down the Main Street, a block or two from Jose's home. As Pablo and 
Jose turned a corner, they walked dead on to the gang's hideout. Jesus, 
the leader of the gang, caught them and shouted for them to stop. “Hey, 
where ya goin big mouth?” he asked. “What's it to you man? Don't you 
got something better to do?” Pablo was astonished at Jose's bravado. 

Chuckling, Jesus replied “Don't get smart with me hombre, remember what
I did to your face last time you talked smack? His face curled into a 
sneer, which was the position it usually was in.  Jose didn't reply 
instead, hightailed it out of there. They both managed to run about a 
block before they were caught. The gang was older, and faster. At that 
time, Pablo's memories of the day were sharper then most memories he 
had. Thought that was probably because of the beating he took. All he 
remembered were them exchanging words, a glare came from Jesus, and the 
fight broke out. Though the two boys were slightly smaller and younger, 
they had one advantage over the gang. They were taught a style of 
fighting only found in South America called “Rohen”. It was a deadly 
art, and it saved their lives more then once. But this time, they were 
outnumbered. They fought anyway. Pablo immediately changed into his 
“kanta” stance. One of the boys rushed at him with a shoulder charge. 
At the last second, Pablo sidestepped and delivered a fierce blow as a 
gift for the unsuccessful attack. One boy was out. At the same time, 
Jose was attacked with a choke. Chokes were extremely hard to get out 
of. But Jose took his training seriously, and delivered a head shot to 
the attacker's nose, breaking it instantly. As Jose was regaining his 
senses, one of the remaining attackers brandished a knife from his worn 
out boots. In this situation, Jose was warned never to let them swipe, 
or better yet, don't fight it. Not if you have to. But Jose had no 
choice. The knife came at him faster then he could move, and he was 
sliced up in the arm. Pablo tried to help his friend, but he in return 
received a knee shot to the nose. The blood stained the ground. Pain 
rushed into Pablo's mind, and he almost lost consciousness. He knew 
though, that his friend needed him, so he stayed fought the 
overwhelming desire to pass out. He delivered a fierce kick to the 
knife attacker's groin, followed by an elbow strike to a pressure point 
directly underneath his armpit. That crippled him. Now there were only 
two attackers left, the leader, and one more goon. But they were both 
losing consciousness. And the gash Jose received wasn't healing at all. 
The blood kept coming, and was followed by a river of pain and . They 
knew they had to act fast. Run if they could, they had done all they 
were able. But Jose was in no condition to run, and he too was losing 
consciousness. Pablo acted fast, and pleaded with the leader to let 
them go. But the leader's anger was too much. He signaled to his last 
goon. The goon punched Jose in his injury. Jose screamed out in pain. 
It was horrible to listen to. It was too agonizing for his friend 
Pablo. Pablo then made a horrible mistake. For one moment, he closed 
his eyes. Before he knew it, he was reeling in pain, blood stained on 
his clothes, and he was lying on the street. He lost consciousness this 
time, and the last thing he saw was his friend being surrounded. They 
made a circle around him, closing in, like a pack of hungry lionesses! 
He faded to black, and returned to reality. 

Chapter 2 

Pablo visibly straightened himself. He had to focus and, he couldn't
keep strolling down memory lane anymore. Now was not the time. 
Something big was happening in his life, and it all had started a week 
ago. He had been kicking back on his couch, drinking a refreshing, ice 
cold cup of lemonade, and some salty pretzels. While watching the news 
on television, a news alert had popped up. It showed another violent 
attack in the Middle East. A group of Palestinians had high jacked a 
bus and planted it with their own bomb. There were helpless people 
inside that bus, but the group didn't care. They drove the bus head on 
towards a local restaurant and it had exploded in a ball of fire. The 
first to arrive at the scene only saw smoke and the bones stripped raw 
on the streets. In retaliation for the attack, a group of Islam's took 
hold of a local school and threatened to blow it up. This time, 
fortunately, a group of elite police force was sent in, and was 
specifically ordered to neutralize the threat. 

It was a medium size school, which was rare. School was halfway through,
and the kids were itching to run home. But at around 12:45, a group of 
nine, raided the school and shepherded all of the students and faculty 
into the largest room in the school, the auditorium. It was large for 
them, but to give realistic estimation, it was actually about half the 
size of a small auditorium in the States. There were six, small, dingy 
windows, and a catwalk. The ceiling was about thirty three feet from 
the ground, and was laced with a series of metallic catwalks. There 
were only three doors that gave access to the auditorium. One was a 
double steel door, located in the front of the auditorium. The second 
door was a red fire escape door, and if opened an alarm went off. This 
door was located on stage and was being secured by two of the 
terrorists. Two other were guarding the front door. The third door was 
much smaller then the other two and was unknown to the terrorists. It 
was located above them, and gave access to the roof. The terrorist's 
demands were the same each time. Control over the Holy Land, and the 
removal of the Palestinian's. This was a common scene to the police, 
but they still needed to keep order, and ensure the safety of every 
citizen in that auditorium. 

There were no qualified police negotiators at the time, so the head
police officer was instructed to communicate with the terrorist and try 
to work out a safe agreement. But the group would not make negations at 
all, and threatened to kill two people every hour if their demands were 
not met. Their threat was taken very seriously. The police knew what 
they had to do. There was no choice, but it was still very risky. The 
special elite task force was ordered to quell the problem. The command 
leader ordered up blueprints for the school. He discovered the one door 
that lead to the catwalks hanging from the ceiling. He would use that 
to his advantage. But of course he wasn't sure if it was guarded. Any 
attempt made to neutralize any of the terrorists would surely lead to 
the deaths of all the people trapped inside. The command leader knew 
this risk and decided to risk it. He had no choice. So he sent his best 
recon sniper through the roof and ordered to stay in position behind 
the rooftop door. The command to move inside and take position would be 
codenamed “Charlie”. Time was running out. 

It had already been exactly fifty-three minutes, and he knew they would
stay good on their threat. The sweat was dripping down the squad 
commander's brow'. At exactly fifty-seven minutes, the leader gave the 
codeword over radio “Charlie”. The sniper moved into position. He had 
five more members, including himself. At fifty-minutes, the terrorists 
phoned in, asking if their demands were not met. The police chief tried 
to buy more time, but the terrorist knew they wouldn't receive their 
demands. Exactly one minute later, reconnaissance photos taken by using 
one of the top windows, showed the group's leader dragging two adults 
into the stage. They were then forced to their knees. At that second it 
seemed, one of the children let out a cry, and this enraged the group 
leader. He dragged the young boy, who by the looks of it, looked no 
more then ten, and forced him to kneel with them. He ordered the 
weapons to be pointed at their heads. Meanwhile, at the exact moment 
when the elite police force captain received the photos, he knew he had 
to move. He ordered two of his men to take position outside each door, 
and at the codeword “Delta” to move in and neutralize all targets. This 
included the sniper already positioned on the catwalk. A look of fear 
passed over the captain's face, and in the brief second it came upon 
him, it was gone. It was replaced by certainty, or better yet, 
acceptance. He was accepting the risk, and accepting the possible 
failure of what he had to do. He deployed the button on the radio and 
gave the word. “Delta”. 

After that, everything happened in a rush. His two men at the fire
escape door rushed in and used a teqnique called “stun and gun”. They 
threw in a stun grenade and rushed the terrorists. It happened all very 
quickly. They took out three guys before one of them took regained his 
senses and sprayed a line of fire at them. One man was shot in the 
stomach, while the other was immediately killed. The commander screamed 
at the sniper to take out the remaining targets and he did manage to 
take out two before the rest could find him. They pelted him with 
machine gun fire. The sniper was now quite dead. The remaining elite 
task consisted of three members. Two assault specialists and the 
captain. On this mission, the captain came in with them. They rushed 
through the front doors, banging them open. Using extreme precision, 
the captain took out the leader, but on his way down, he fell on the 
trigger of his gun. The bullets that sprayed out caused 3 children to 
drop. The remaining of the terrorist group gave up, and we're 
handcuffed away. The job was done, and it was far from a good plan. 
Everything went wrong, but the captain knew that from the beginning. 
Three of his team members were K.I.A., and they were all good men. But 
what was worse was the children. They shouldn't have been a part of 
this, and he would never forgive himself if they died. But sadly, only 
hours later, the results came in that two had died only minutes before, 
and the other was in critical condition. He might not make it. All that 
had happened, the captain retold to the camera crew. And now Pablo had 
watched it, thousands of miles away. 

He had remembered feeling the bile crawling up his throat. It gave him a
sickening feeling, watching the events progress. He didn't understand 
why anyone would take such extreme measures to get what they wanted. He 
also wondered why this problem hadn't been already solved. It had been 
happening for hundreds of years, this senseless bloodshed. It affected 
everyone in the country, even the innocent. Those innocent were 
supposed to be the future. They were the children. The children either 
didn't understand the hate, or they were told who to hate by their 
fathers. They grew up with that hate, although they never questioned 
why. It was natural to them, and they would pass it on to their 
children. It was a cycle of inherited rage. Desperately and foolishly, 
many tried to lessen this incoherent rage. Their dreams of peace were 
crushed when they learned that a rage like that could never eased 
especially since it had been going on since the maps were drawn. Or at 
least that's what everybody believed.  Pablo wondered if he would see 
something positive progress in his lifetime, and for a moment he 
believed he would. Images started to form in his mind, and he let the 
images dwell there. He dreamt of a place where the overwhelming peace 
in the world was a real thing. Where you could turn on the television 
and hear stories of inspiration, not violence. Where you could walk to 
a store and not worry about being offended at being called any racial 
slurs. Where in schools, you could learn in security, and you could 
feel safe. You could talk to your friends about other things then the 
fight third period. Where greed didn't have a firm grip on the world. 

Without greed to posses the lives of so many, the human race could focus
on other things. They could look to the stars once again, and dream. 
Then they could finally make that dream a reality. They could travel 
from star to star, and explore the universe. No more wars, no more 
thirst for blood and money. That overwhelming peace could only be 
imagined, Pablo thought. That time might never come. Pablo plunged his 
fork into the sizzling bacon, and took a bite. He let the pleasure that 
came from eating such great food seep through every pore in his body. 
But the feeling of pleasure was quickly replaced. Images were forming 
in his mind, and he just let them come. He wasn't sure what it was 
though. He saw a dark road. There was a storm overhead. A river of 
blood flowed by the road. The sky then turned rain. But he traveled 
down this road, and came to a bridge. It was an old bridge, laid 
carefully with stones. It crossed the river of blood, and at the end of 
the bridge, the sky turned blue, and the river turned clear. As quick 
as the vision/dream took him, it was just as quickly gone. Even as he 
was trying to understand it, it was quickly fading.  But he knew that 
eventually the answer would come to him. It always did. He'd had these 
kind of dreams before, and he was still trying to figure out why they 
came, or why they came to him anyway. While he was contemplating these 
thoughts, his mother, Maria Nunes, called him down in a hurried tone. 

Chapter 3 

She sounded excited. Pablo yelled back, “I'll be down in a sec mom!” But
she was very persistent and urged him to come down immediately. “Okay, 
Okay I'm coming!!” he shouted hoarsely. He ran down the stairs to meet 
the overjoyed, yet puzzled look on his mothers face. “It's for you. His 
name is Wayne Lloyd. Ambassador Wayne Lloyd!” “He wants to talk to 
you!!” Pablo felt awed, surprised, yet also strangely relaxed. He 
picked up the phone. 

“Hello? Pablo Nunes? Hi, my name is Wayne Lloyd and I'm an Ambassador to
the President of the United States of America. We've read your letter 
you've submitted, and frankly we're excited. Excited enough to ask you 
to come visit us in the White House, where we will discuss big plans 
for you. You see, the letter you wrote, was personally read by the 
President himself. His own words were, “This is pretty good damn stuff! 
This is definitely good stuff!!” “He feels that your ideas are great, 
but the rest of the staff is skeptical. It says here on the form that 
you're 16 years old? Well Pablo, for a 16yr old you've got some pretty 
amazing ideas. But can you follow through? It's a pretty daunting task, 
and even now I remain skeptical it can be done. But you show remarkable 
ability, and I think it's possible. Not probable, but possible.” “Well, 
what do you have to say for yourself?!?” 

Throughout the entire conversation, Pablo was barely listening. He felt
he was being lied to. He had a good idea of what Mr. Lloyd was going to 
ask. He just didn't believe it. In the first few seconds of the 
conversation, he had no idea what Mr. Lloyd was talking about. But then 
it came to him. It happened a few months back. In a moment of 
inspiration, while watching the news, Pablo started writing. His 
writing at the time we're just idea's, but he had to get them down, or 
he would forget. At the time, they were just thrown together onto 
paper. They came out at him in a blur, and it was all he could do to 
throw them onto paper. After he ran out of the ideas, Pablo just stared 
at the paper at while, and wondered what he could do to it. After 
discussing his idea's with his history teacher, he decided to form it 
into a coherent letter, and send it to the President. It was just a 
crazy idea at the time, and he had no idea it would go so far. It was 
about the Middle East, and how to stop the violence. If peace could be 
brought, the world would change dramatically. Nothing would ever be the 
same. It would be a new era in humanity. Because the Middle East and 
their problems are so far away, we tend to be detached towards them. We 
believe it doesn't affect us. But it does, because everything affects 
us, some in little ways, some in great ways. Just because the problems 
aren't close to home, doesn't mean they don't exist. Pablo understood 
this, in a very big way. Now, some silly idea he had, was coming alive, 
and it had come looking for him. He knew his life was changed, now and 
forever. 

“Thank you Mr. Lloyd, I would be delighted to visit the capital of our
country. When can we meet?” Pablo inquired. “Well Pablo, he said 
chuckling, I knew you couldn't resist the chance of a lifetime. I've 
already sent plane tickets and for you and your mother. There on their 
way, and should be there tomorrow.” “Is that too soon?” he added with a 
carefully restrained, almost impatient tone. “No, Mr. Lloyd, I'm sure 
my mother will agree that this is special chance. A chance of many 
lifetimes, that I'm sure no one would turn down. I'll be seeing you 
then, in two days. Thank you for giving me this chance, you will never 
know what this means to me Mr. Lloyd” “You're thanking me, Mr. Nunes? 
If what you say is possible, it will change the very future. Your kids 
will live in such a different, yet amazing time. I envy them. I'll be 
seeing you in two days then. God speed” And he hung up. 

Pablo slowly put the phone down and turned to his mother. She had a tear
rolling down the eye, only the beginning of a long river of tears that 
would ensue. But she managed to maintain her composure for the moment 
long enough to say a few words. “Son, this changes so many things. You 
have a chance, my little boy, to change things. God blessed you with a 
gift. You're articulate, intelligent, and have a way with words. You 
can melt turn the coldest heart into the tiniest tear. People in the 
world are born, grow, get jobs, have a family, and die. That's the sad 
truth of it. But you're something out of the ordinary. Don't waste such 
a gift, make me proud” Maria said, in between tears. 

Pablo didn't have to say anything. Words couldn't convey his joy anyway.
The look on his face said it all, so there was nothing to say. A smile 
cascaded across his face, and he hugged his mom. There was so much to 
do in day he had. Things to pack, friends to call. It was total mayhem, 
and a bit unfair to Pablo and his mother. But he wasn't about to 
complain. The day was almost as chaotic as the ride their. The traffic 
sent Pablo and his mother to a grinding halt. There was no way they 
would make the flight in time. But when all seemed inevitable, a slot 
opened up in the gridlock of cars and they blew past. They made the 
flight at the last possible moment, and were the last ones to board the 
plane. They were surprised to have second class, a notable step up from 
the usually dingy smell that lingered in the air in coach. When they 
finally sat down, Maria turned to her son. “So now what, do you know 
what you're gonna say and do? What do you want to achieve anyway? Do 
you have any plans son? After the assault of questions was over, he 
simply replied, “I have no idea at all Mom. This was a blessing, and 
I'm just gonna go with the flow. See what happens, ya know? I guess 
I'll just repeat what I said in the letter and tell him my ideas. This 
is a long shot, so I'm not going to expect a lot from it. Less chance 
of me being blown away when I realize my dreams can't come true. I'm 
protected, if you know what I mean. He settled back in his chair, and 
sipped his coffee. Maria gave her son a long, hard look. She tried to 
understand how and why this was happening. She knew her son was 
special, but he didn't know much about the world. But then this 
opportunity rang at her door, and she didn't know what to do with it. 
It was surely a blessing from god. 

She turned to get a look of her son, and she saw him staring out the
window, lost in his own world. At that moment, a fiery burst of light 
erupted on his face. The falling star cast its final brilliance over 
the landscape. Slowly, the infinite blanket of the night was cast over 
the view. Silence infiltrated the plane, creeping along, row by row. 
The silence infiltrated the plane, creeping along, row by row. The eyes 
of the weary passengers descended along with their star, as if making 
its way down a bottomless lake. All that could be heard was the quiet 
hum of the engines. The night passed and the sun rised. Chapter 4 

Pablo awoke refreshed and ready. Just as his eyes were rising from the
depths of dreams, the pilot instructed his passengers to put on their 
seat belts. Excitement grew whey they realized they were landing. The 
loud screech of the heavy tires hitting asphalt, at incredible speeds, 
with a massive cargo on its back, the pane slowly rolled to a halt. The 
stairs were lowered and Pablo and his mother stepped out onto the awe 
inspiring capital of the country, D.C. He had stepped off from the 
highlight of his teenager years, and stepped on to the emergence of 
manhood. 

Maria ushered her son through the terminal hall and they emerged into
the bustling city of the airport terminal, or more like the downtown 
side of a giant ant farm. They hurried through the electric crowd, 
wrestled with their luggage, and clambered through the doors. The glare 
of the sun forced them to take cover beneath the shade of their hands. 
A bead of sweat trickled down Pablo's forehead, and landed with a 
sizzle on the sidewalk. The hot Washington sun felt relenting yet 
refreshing. They hailed a taxi and Maria gave the driver the 
instructions to get to the hotel they were staying at, which Mr. Lloyd 
had personally arranged. On the way to the hotel, they passed Capitol 
Hill. Its crisp green lawns, and its short Victorian black fence sent 
its message. This was the capitol of the country and it deserved 
respect. Pablo couldn't take his eyes of it. They arrived at the cab, 
and as they stepped out, Maria pressed a bill into Pablo's hand told 
him that she'll be inside, and to give the cabbie a tip. Turning 
around, Pablo gave the cabbie a short nod and a smile. As he reached 
through the window to give the man his rightfully deserved tip, the 
cabbie gave Pablo a strange look. He had unsettling green eyes, unusual 
for a man that seemed to have a Middle Eastern look. The cabbie only 
replied by saying “(Insert Muslim word for Allah has carved a path for 
you, safe journey young man.” Pablo's furry eyebrows curled into a 
puzzled look. But the man turned away and drove off. “Whatever he just 
said. Weirdo.” He grabbed the bags, of course, and half stumbled half 
hiked to the lobby. He was greeted by an attractive brunette with a 
nametag attached to her blouse which read “Chloe” She was clearly 
dressed for business but she had added her own flair to her outfit by 
adding a red silk scarf around her neck. It seemed almost as she was 
trying to act extra casual. 

“Pablo Nunes? Welcome to Washington. My name is Chloe Perrison and I am
Ambassador Lloyd's personal secretary. He sent me here to get you 
acquainted with Washington before I take you to the Capitol building, 
where he'll be meeting you. Your room number is twenty one nineteen.” 
She handed him a key card. I'll give you a couple of minutes to unpack, 
and then I'll meet you down here to start the tour. Your mother is free 
to join, if she chooses.” “Alright, thank you Ms. Perrison, this feels 
so rushed. But I can't wait to meet Mr. Lloyd. He seems like a great 
guy” “That's the understatement of the year. In the world of corrupt 
politicians, Mr. Lloyd is a white plume. But I've read your letter. 
There's serious potential there, and it will be my pleasure to be your 
guide. I'll let you go. See you in fifteen okay?” She briskly walked 
away, and headed outside. With nothing to say, Pablo headed for his 
room. Not used to such luxuries as a hotel, especially an electronic 
key card, Pablo spent a good minute trying to open the door. With such 
a simple procedure leaving him frustrated, he knew he would have never 
normally fit into such an environment. But he was going to have to 
learn, yet not forget either. Inside he found his mother unpacking her 
suitcases. She turned to face him. “Have you met Ms. Perrison? Sweet 
young lady that one is. A bit to speedy for me, but nevertheless 
courteous. I'm sure you'll find a girl that in this beautiful state.” 
“Please mom, I wish” he heaved his suitcases on his bed and started to 
unpack. “Were going on a tour of the Washington area before we head for 
the Capitol, want to come?” “Sorry, but I'm not as young as you, 
stallion. I got to sleep of the jet lag, and then I'm going to treat 
myself to a nice, hot bubble bath. But have fun, and don't get nervous 
around a big shot like Mr. Lloyd. From what Ms. Perrison told me, he 
seems to be not affected at all by his power. Just be your self, and 
just tell him what you think and feel. You'll do fine. I promise.” She 
walked over to him, and gave him a motherly hug. “I'm proud of you no 
matter the outcome of this. Don't forget that okay?” “Sure mom, I know. 
He pried away from her grip and headed towards the door. Opening it he 
stepped out and shut it behind him. Then he opened it and stuck his 
head inside and said, “I'll make you proud anyways. I'll call later. 
Peace” The door slammed behind him. He suddenly got a feeling in his 
stomach, almost like butterflies but different. It was because he had a 
purpose now, and he intended to do it till the end. He walked to the 
hallway, but to him he never touched the floor. 

Chapter 5 

The beep of the elevator woke Pablo from his trance. He walked towards
the large, exquisite lobby, where he found Ms. Perrison in casual 
clothes. Khakis a revealing tank top, and a cap that said “Washington 
Boulevard, Street of the Country.” Yet she was still stunning. As if 
she radiated confidence, and every step was a step towards her 
predetermined fate, she walked over to him. “Hello. Are you ready to go 
Mr. Nunes?” So much for the casual look Pablo thought to himself. “Yea 
sure, bring it on. Where we going anyway?  Lincoln statue, Capitol 
Building, what?” “Actually, how about something to eat? I know this 
little Cuban restaurant. It's on the house, and we have time for a 
bite” she said with a smile and with a flirty glance in her eyes. 
Almost as if she was hitting on him. That's crazy though, Pablo assured 
himself. “Yea sure, why not?” They walked outside into the warm 
Washington light. Not that he minded of course. She hailed a taxi, and 
almost like she commanded them to come to her, a taxi immediately 
stopped, backed up, and picked them up. Pablo gave the driver a quick 
glance to see if it was the creepy one from before. Not him though. “To 
Cuban Corner please” Ms. Harrison told the cabbie. They sped off. Pablo 
thought he would be seeing more of this Ms. Harrison so he engaged her 
in some small talk. “So, Ms. Harrison, do you have a first name if you 
don't mind me asking?” She laughed while adjusting her cap. “Yea I do. 
Its Penolope.” Pablo recognized the name. “That's Greek right? Pretty 
name.” She gave him a beaming smile, showing off her pearls, and said 
“Aren't you too young to be hitting on me? How old are you, like 10 or 
something?” “Actually, I'm turning seventeen Saturday. But then again 
how old are you? Twenty, twenty-one? You must be to get a job in 
Washington.” “I wish. Actually, I just turned 18. I skipped my Junior 
year in high school and graduated early. I was elected as the next 
Leader of America by my school, and through the principal, a few 
strings were pulled. Strings in my favor. Oh yea, my dad is a Senator 
here also. So that helps” It was his term to laugh. “Ah, so what's with 
the pompous, official business, attitude?” She looked out the window at 
the moving landscape. After a long moment, she turned to him. “My 
father told me act like that. It gives you respect he says. In a 
competitive place like Washington, you need all the tools you can get.” 
 They had finally arrived at the restaurant. Thinking fast, Pablo got 
out of the cab first, and like a true gentleman, opened up her door. 
“Awww, that's sweet. But honey, if I needed men to do things for me, 
I'd be back in school, baking cookies and what not. But it was sweet. 
Thank you” “No problem” he sheepishly answered. He was going to open 
the door for the restaurant but thought against it. They walked in to a 
small, dim room. The one captivating feature of the room were the 
walls. Or rather, what was on them. One hand drawn painting covered the 
whole wall. It was a painting of the city, and in the clouds, two hands 
met, and grabbed each other firmly. It was beautifully drawn. 


   


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
kickboxrko has 12 active stories on this site.
Profile for kickboxrko, incl. all stories
Email: kickboxrko@aol.com

stories in "Inspirational stories"   |   all stories by "kickboxrko"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy