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Unformatted text preview: r knees had been hurt. Two men were running towards her from the office of the filling station, and the truck driver had come down and around to help her. "Are you OK, lady?" he said. "Yes, let's go," she said. She looked up in the man's face. "We have to hurry!" The truth was-if they hadn't been pulling her up, she couldn't have risen. She leant on the truck driver's arm. The sky beyond the swamps was purple. "Couldn't get them?" "No," she said, "but we have to push on." "Lady, I have to make my stop in St. Martinville. No way around it, I have to pick up . . ." "I understand. I'll call from there again. Just drive, please. Go. Take us away from here." Here. The isolated gas station on the swamp's edge, the sky purple overhead, the stars peeping through and a great bright moon rising. He lifted her with considerable ease and set her down on the seat, then came around, released the emergency brake and let the big truck creak and wheeze before he slamm...
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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