" I'm calling the doctor," said Kari as she picked up the phone."Kari, no, please," I said, both a little embarrassed that I would haveto tell the doc...or I'd shrunk a little and not wanting to spend abeautiful summer day in a doctor's office. "Come on, let's havebreakfast and relax. I'm sure I'm fine. If anything else happens, we cancall then, ok?"Kari seemed to understand my feelings immediately (maybe those hormonesmaking her so empathetic) and she put down the phone and patted my face."Ok,. Deadlines control the very fabric of our isolated lives we live. Machines that steal the minutes of our lives away from the depths of that life which we have lived. We are free, free as a bat, which must return to cave when the light shines brightly in their faces. In this cave we shelter and hide from that depths of reality as the sounds of life echo from the past. Those very sounds that haunt us of what could have been and should have been. This is the life we chose to live or did we? The. More

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