It feels the emptiness brought on by lonliness nearby. it drifts along the trash strewn streets of the cold concrete city. careful not to reveal itself to passerbys. carefully avoiding the harmful beams of the streetlamps. its wraithlike shadowy form clings to the abysmal alleys as it drifts along. pain and defeat lay everywhere, confusing it, keeping it from tonights destiny. a strong sense of urgency overwhelms it as it triangulates the final fix. it speeds its way directly towards the source, risking discovery and the kiss of the beautiful but deadly lights. it reaches her window. her beauty almost freezes it as it sees into her mind. she is in a wheelchair, without use of her arms and legs, but it doesnt understand the physical and overlooks that. it see's the self destructive threads of self pity brought on by the desires of the flesh. the desires are trapped in a wall built by her. some stones from an insensitive or pitiful comment or look from the others, some from family acting protectively out of love. and some more forged from a mother or father protecting her from their young children's curious questions, not realizing the avoidence is what hurts the most. and the stones are cemented by her own self doubts and feelings of inadequacies. It tries too pull the stones out, but the cement is too strong. it finds a crack or crevice left open by her burried sense of self worth. it wedges its form into thes voids trying to leverage a stone free, just one stone and the rest come easier. as one starts to give Liz awakens from her blank stare feeling somewhat exillarated. she pounds on her keyboard * blond, 36-24-36 looking for..* she types, living a false fantasy through half truths (the void shrinks). in pain it escapes the crushing blow, confused it exits her to bear witness the falsehoods emanating from her. understanding it leaps into the computer to search out. It finds many souls, some lonely, some playful and some spiteful. it is searching for, *ahh found him*, typing a similar tale of false fantasies *9-inch...seeks*, it glides into the mind of a loney compassionate man, who though not physically unatractive, is unable to find the right one. it tweeks a little here and a little there, not bending truths, but unbending the lies. he post's his heart *looking for real love, nothing else is important, not looks not nothing*... it speeds back through the lines surfing on the microwaves until back to Liz. it unbends her untruths and bends her eyes to his post, she answers. *i am a sexy quadrapalegic.......*. as the weeks ensue they become closer and closer, and when they meet he never sees her as a helpless cripple, he sees her as the one he has always looked for, they make love that night, and intensity never before achieved by either. job done it drifts upon the nights breezes, searching......

  This piece was written by RedCrosse and inspired by Liz
RedCrosse was the very first friend i made on the net and we remain friends
to this day