It was a bright sunny day in Brooklyn, New York. As the sun gleamed out on Jeff's arm, the warm silky leather feel of his arm was very interesting to him. As he went lower on his arm the leathery comforting feeling was replaced by rough, alligator skin. And he noticed it was his hand that he was touching. He always seemed to ponder, why would his hand be so rough all the time? Then he remembered, it was the scars he'd gotten over the years. Although, he never seemed very bothered by it. It had made him feel like more of a man. Strong, confident, and overall, cool. He started heading over to the bus when he had forgotten what time it was since he woke up. So he started running towards the bus. The acorns and leafs on the ground faded into blurs of green and brown shapes of blobs took place. Panicking, Jeff's legs couldn't go any faster. And Jeff could no longer breathe. Soon, he would stop for a breather. And the fact that his house was a quarter of a mile from the bus stop didn't help. When he finally thought that he could make it in time. Fate was there to slap him in the face. He blankly stared at the yellow mobile vehicle and for a brief second he felt time had stopped for him. And he didn't know how right he was.
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