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August 11, 2001

             August 11, 2001.
             In the city that never sleeps, I found myself walking along a well worn path of brick-red cobblestone. Amid this never-ending world of concrete, there loomed bark-less trees with large-leaved foliage. I wondered how these trees could survive with no bark and shivered. A beautiful array of flowers and plants lined my path as I stepped up my pace.
             Wrought-iron benches were placed in strategic places along my route for those that have time to sit and take in the scenery. I, on the other hand, had a mission and a special destination. It appears as if everyone in passing had a special destination and a specific purpose. Rising above the trees, were massive buildings, each with their own specific architectural designs and mirrored windows that reflected the billowy clouds in the bright blue sky. I turned around in a circle to take in my surroundings and saw in the distance of the beauty I left behind. The iron maiden, that so magnificently raises her torch for all mankind, dominated the picture. Several ferries and speed boats scurried around her that resembled a swarm of worker bees around their queen. Taking it all in, I took a deep breath and turned again toward my goal. Just as I was about to walk out of this woodland with in this city, there were several colorful vendors vying for my attention. The aroma of hot pretzels and hot dogs filled the air. The greenway opened up and I stepped onto the concrete sidewalk. Numerous horse drawn carriages lined the avenue placed safely away from the tour buses and taxis that busily moved in and out of traffic. Across the street and to my left, a vast plaza of concrete, botanical garden plots, and statutes of various shapes and sizes caught my eye. A multitude of flags wield upon their cold emotionless face. I gazed up towards the heavens, straining to see the pinnacle.

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