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	<title>Cricket Walker &#187; Very Short Stories</title>
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	<description>The world, through my eyes and my heart . . .</description>
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		<title>Through My Eyes</title>
		<link>http://www.cricketwalker.com/through-my-eyes/</link>
		<comments>http://www.cricketwalker.com/through-my-eyes/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 30 May 2009 22:25:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cricket Walker</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Very Short Stories]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.cricketwalker.com/?p=471</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Life isn&#8217;t about someday or yesterday. It isn&#8217;t about what could have been or what may someday be. It&#8217;s about today, right now, this very moment. It&#8217;s about falling in love with the world around us every day. For me, it&#8217;s about the way I see the world through my eyes . . .

As I [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>9</slash:comments>
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		<title>Sound of the Mourning Dove</title>
		<link>http://www.cricketwalker.com/dove/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 05 May 2009 09:05:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cricket Walker</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Very Short Stories]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.cricketwalker.com/?p=439</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[
I woke to the lonesome sound of the mourning dove
Drawn to the sight of her, resting on the branch
Cautiously watching the others all around her
Yet she remained there, separate and alone
Calling out for something . . .
Tears burned my eyes, but did not fall
Softly I whispered to her
I know little bird
I know . . .

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		<title>The Voices Within</title>
		<link>http://www.cricketwalker.com/voices/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 01 May 2009 20:10:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cricket Walker</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Very Short Stories]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.cricketwalker.com/?p=435</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[
The Voice of Hope . . . 
The voice of hope still believes in fairy tales and happily ever after. It is often quickly smothered by the voice of reason, and ridiculed by the voice of darkness and doubt. But somehow, no matter what happens in life, this voice continues to survive.
Yeah, sometimes the light [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The Darkest Hours</title>
		<link>http://www.cricketwalker.com/darkest-hours/</link>
		<comments>http://www.cricketwalker.com/darkest-hours/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 30 Apr 2009 23:24:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cricket Walker</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Very Short Stories]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.cricketwalker.com/?p=421</guid>
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Now and then, I find the darkest hours before dawn to be the most difficult. It took me a few moments to realize what woke me up, a few moments before I heard the wind howling, gusting at more than 50 mile per hour, branches scraping the side of the building.
It&#8217;s ironic that I love [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
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		<title>Ignoring the World</title>
		<link>http://www.cricketwalker.com/ignoring/</link>
		<comments>http://www.cricketwalker.com/ignoring/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 15 Feb 2008 00:41:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cricket Walker</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Very Short Stories]]></category>

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One voice, one girl
Sitting all alone
not caring who you are
She&#8217;s ignoring the world
and playing her guitar
Don&#8217;t want to do anything
but sing and play
The stress and the drama
it all goes away
Not worried about makeup or nails
instead she sings about her trials and tales
One voice, one girl
Singing with her guitar
ignoring the world . . .

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