Michael was once again struck by this place that was quickly becoming a home. He moved through the streets of Oxford like a local, being greeted every...so often by a student or shopkeeper that he had met. Michael had fallen in love with the tight streets, unique architectural styles and the ancient feel of the place. Being so close to the water reminded him of home, crossing back and forth over the intracoastal, feeling the shift in the breeze and the scent of water that came with it. Oxford. ”“Samson? Who is Samson?” I asked, and they both just giggled and Lizzie said “He’s another of my best friends.” After a couple of minutes Lizzie pointed to a small gateway and we drove through and down a narrow farm track for about two or three hundred yards to pull up outside a wooden building and a corral. The car had hardly stopped when they both jumped out and ran towards the building calling for me to follow. I waited a couple of minutes trying to gather my thoughs and then walked after. More

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