Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

He heard juliens voice with the fancy french accent

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Unformatted text preview: nothing in my mind but the words of the poem and feverish images! I was senseless finally. Days passed. The doctor came. At last I sat up and began to talk so the nincompoop would leave me alone. Science had made great strides since my boyhood, but that didn't prevent this knucklehead from standing over me and telling my loved ones that I was suffering from "hardening of the arteries" and "senile dementia" and couldn't understand anything they said. It was an absolute delight to rise up and order him out of the room. Also I wanted to walk around again. I was never one for simply lying there, and this had been my worst hour, and it had ended and I was living still. Richard helped me dress and I went down all the way to the first floor for supper with my family. I sat at the head of the table and made a great show of polishing off gumbo, roast chicken, and a boeufdaube or some other foolishness, just so they would leave me alone. I refused to look at Cortland, who tried again and again to speak to me. I was really making him miserable, my poor fair-haired boy! The cousins gabbled. Mary Beth spoke of practical things with her drunken husband, Daniel Mclntyre, poor old soul, now so sick he was a...
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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.

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