The excerpt I posted here yesterday was from the beginning of the seventh section of the story, so today I will print the story's actual introduction.  Yes, folks, it is a bionic story.  Not commercially publishable at this time, but there is a small new ray of hope in the negotiations.  Anyhow, here is the beginning.

Legacy

November 1, 2009

Rudy says it won't be much longer. I know he blames himself, but he really shouldn't. Life is like a dice game – unpredictable and full of risks – and Rudy made it possible for me to have an extra turn, an extra shot at the game. I can never thank him enough for that. It was the rarest of opportunities, glittering in my hands like a butterfly – so beautiful and fleeting that you simply know from the outset that one day it must be released. Obviously, I am not a writer but I'm hoping that one day Steve's and my children will seek answers that maybe (if I can pull enough from the old memory banks and from my diaries) these pages can provide for them.

I'm 'only' 60, which some would state firmly is just too young to die nowadays – and certainly too young to think of leaving a legacy – but I died when I was 26 years old, so the thought isn't as terrifying to me as it is to most people. The genius that brought me back and kept me here for another solid 34 years deserves to be noted and lauded for his accomplishments. Perhaps once Steve and I are both gone, Rudy's work will be able to be recognized and appreciated. My goal is to see that this happens, as well as to let Jenna, Adam and Hannah know how very, very much they were loved and hopefully give them a clearer grasp of exactly who their parents were.

I don't want bionics to be seen as the cause of our deaths, but rather as the catalyst that enabled us to go on living, long after our final dice had been tossed.

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