In his black leather vest and black running shorts. He felt empowered, looking good as he did, it gave him confidence. He felt free, with his easy way in the world. His confidence gave him options. His good looks made him popular. He had a good life, people liked him, and he liked meeting people.
He stepped confidently into the world. It held no apprehension for him. There was nothing of which he was scared. It represented nothing but good things to him, opportunities, joy, and happiness. He felt sorry for anyone who didn’t feel the same, not that that was foremost in his mind. No. Life was good, and he only felt good things when he went out into it.
He knew he was lucky. Well, he believed people when they told him he was lucky. Lucky, or not, this was the only life he had had, so it was the only life he knew. Lucky, or not, this was his life, and it was easy and good. He didn’t know any different. He didn’t know what other people went through, not really, not first hand. But it was true, he liked life, and life seemed to like him.
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