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The thunderous sound of a herd of wild antelope, started by the approach of a lion cub learning to hunt, reached the young mans ears as he brushed away the screen of hanging plants barring his path. As he pushed further into the jungle, the sound of buzzing insects, chittering monkeys and cackling birds enveloped him, the world behind just a memory of pain and hurt, this new world a wonderland of new sights, smells, sounds. However, just as every rose has its thorn, the dangers of this world were quickly becoming apparent. His fingers slipped out to touch the silky underside of one of the giant rubber plant leaves that sheltered him from the fine spray of a falling rainbow.

Everything was new to him here. New colours, exciting in their vibrancy, new textures, where all was once smooth and cold. Now he had something with which to compare the machines and their stale beauty. They were nothing to this. This had a natural order and a life of its own.

The new world had too many surprises for him to relax though. His skin was scratched, clothes torn and dirty. He did not know how he would survive, but nevertheless felt that he had made the right decision in leaving. In escaping. Never before had he the freedom he had now, not even as a child. Behind was a world where life was strict and mapped. Here he could become his own person at last.

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