” “The truth!” There was a brief but intense silence. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. She is the image of what I was like, and she has a better voice. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. The effects of the heroin wore off slowly.
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