A Past Life Lived Comments

He's waiting for her, any minute she'll be home. Outside he's moving about, his pigtail about shoulder height dangling out from under a blue Harley Davidson cap he has on.

Taking out a red handkerchief from his blue jeans he wipes over the Harley chrome. He walks to the mailbox, looks across the street, waves, he's close enough that the eagle tattoo he proudly brandishes may be seen, reflective of a past lived life, one that was wild and free.
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