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CHAPTER ONE - Page 4
Omens Of Tragedy
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We drove the half kilometer down the steep hill to the bottom
of our
property, where I'd recently built a blue teepee to act as a shelter for the kids while waiting for the school bus. But
still something
was bothering me. Something really eating at me . . .
needling me. I
stopped at the Texas gate, put the car in park and said, "Dawn,
something is
really bugging me. Something doesn't feel right."
She said, "What?"
"I don't think we should go. I feel very uncomfortable."
"What do you feel uncomfortable about?"
"I don't know what it is."
"Well, you know we haven't been away together for a long
time. You've been
working so hard. Probably you're just over-tired."
I shifted from my heart, and my feeling that something was
wrong, to my
head, which told me I was imagining things, and said, "Yeah,
you're right."
I shook off what was troubling me. "I've got a full-day
conference to
attend and we certainly do need the time away together. I'm
sure everything
will be okay."
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Cheeseburger in paradise.
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