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  PERFECT COMPLEMENTS
 By Alfredo A. Hernandez, a.k.a.  “Raven”
 For Lauren
 
          
        It was going to 
        be another brutally hot day, but that didn’t matter.  It could have been 
        120 degrees and that still wouldn’t matter to Lauren and her Cowboy, or 
        to Cowboy and his Lauren.  The two complemented each other like no 
        other.  Nothing could tear them apart, nothing could come between them.  
        Just the two of them and the open trails of Griffith Park.  
        They had been 
        on many adventures together in recent times, but none gave them more 
        pleasure than going up to Amir’s Garden.  They had seen many spectacular 
        sunrises behind the city skyscrapers and many colorful sunsets behind 
        the mountains there.  Always there were new faces, new friends, and old 
        friends to exchange warm, pleasant hellos.  And everywhere they went, 
        there was no man, woman or child that could deny them the “ooohs” and 
        “ahhhs” that the pair deserved.   
        What was it 
        that people found so attractive, so enticing about them?  Was it her 
        radiant smile that glowed every time she walked through a shadow in the 
        wilderness?  Was it her chin-length wavy hair that shone in the hot 
        afternoon sun?  Or maybe it was her big brown eyes that could pierce 
        through titanium yet still be warm and affectionate?  Was it his 
        powerful body, his elegance?  How perfectly groomed he always was, 
        perhaps?  Most people cannot tell you why they felt the way they did, 
        they just did.  Lauren would simply smile, and continue with her day.  
        Her Cowboy would just enjoy his pleasant surroundings and bask in all 
        the attention he received, never showing much emotion, always modest.  
        Lauren never 
        felt happier than the times she spent with him.  All the outside, 
        worldly distractions seemed to disappear, and when life just got too 
        tough and troubled her, nobody listened better than he did.  Never 
        trying to solve her problems or dilemmas, he simply provided an ear and 
        great company.  When she couldn’t voice her feelings, she would sing a 
        song and he would listen.  Always attentive, never saying anything to 
        interrupt.  
        They had a 
        wonderful relationship. She always made sure he looked his absolute 
        best.  Always made sure he ate well and was warm when it got cold, and 
        stayed cool and hydrated in the grueling hot summer months.  He would 
        never mistreat her or yell at her, and would gladly and proudly take her 
        anywhere she wanted to go.  
        When they 
        happened to work together, which was quite often, that was the most 
        joyous time of the day.  They could be in each other’s wonderful company 
        and get paid for it.  What better?  They worked together quite often 
        because everybody at work knew how well they complemented each other, 
        and Lauren wouldn’t have it any other way.   
        Her Cowboy 
        wasn’t her lover or mate.  He wasn’t simply a friend or co-worker.  He 
        wasn’t a shoulder to cry on.  He was so much more, more than most people 
        could ever understand.  Their love was a flower, and their friendship 
        was a sheltering tree.   
        Their days 
        together became shorter as that summer came to an end.  Lauren would 
        soon go off to college and her Cowboy would have to stay behind.  They 
        would have to live out their days without each other.  Later she would 
        remember all the great times they spent together, and tears of joy would 
        trickle down her cheeks.  During the few weeks before her scheduled 
        departure, she would say to him every day, “Distance has no meaning. The 
        heart always finds its way home,” and would leave, only to come back the 
        next day.  But one day she would not return. 
        
        
        After 
        resting and drinking water following the hour and a half trip up to 
        Amir’s Garden, it was time to go home.  Lauren walked over to her 
        Cowboy, who was forever smiling, and said, “Who’s my precious pony?” 
        Cowboy nudged her with his nose as if he knew what she was saying,  “Yes 
        you are, you’re my precious pony.”  She saddled up and they rode off 
        into the orange sunset, leaving nothing but a silhouette to the admirers 
        they left behind in the Garden.
 
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