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Unformatted text preview: ould understand, without words. It sought her love, her consolation. / won't hurt you anymore, she thought. Without words, in gratitude and with love, it answered her. Good God, it was alive, he was right. It was alive and it could hear her. It was in pain. "It won't take very long," he said. "I'll care for you with all my heart. You are my Eve, yet you are sinless. And once it's born, then if you wish, you can die." She didn't answer him. Why should she? For the first time in two months, there was someone else there to talk to. She turned her head away. Thirteen AS'NE Marie Mayfair sat stiffly on the smooth beige plastic couch in the hospital lobby. Mona saw her as soon as she came in. Anne Marie wore her funeral suit, still, of navy blue, and her usual prim blouse with its score of ruffles. She was reading a magazine, her legs crossed, her black glasses down on her nose, and there was something cute about her as always, with her black hair drawn back in a twist, and her small nose and mouth, and the big glasses made her look both stupid and intelligent. She looked up as Mona approached. Mona pecked her on the cheek and then flop...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10