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Unformatted text preview: it. She looked in the mirror. She looked like a little woman now, well, sort of. She picked up CeeCee's brush and caught up her hair in back, the way CeeCee used to do, and put a barrette in it. And just for an instant, no more than that, like the blink of an eye, she thought she saw Mother. She groaned. She wanted so badly for it to be true. But there was no one in the mirror but Mona, with her hair clipped back, looking very grown-up. There was CeeCee's lipstick, the soft pink kind, 'cause she wasn't sober enough anymore to do anything fancy with bright red unless she wanted to look like a clown, she said. Mona put it on. OK, now back across the hall, slam the door, and boot the computer. The WordStar Directory came up, big and bright and green and full of the classic menu. Mona punched R for Run a Program and com- manded the program to make subdirectory \ WS\ MONA \ HELP. At once she changed to that new directory and hit D to make a file named Help, and then she was in it. "This is...
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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