When a woman makes it to CNN, and one has never heard of her, one must, "Go find!" As the lad says. One Story. The main road begins on top of a hill with a set of traffic lights. It slides down, ending in a serpent's tail-curl called, The Point. The speed limit is 40 Km/hr up the narrow road through town until midway up the hill leading to the serpent's head, the traffic lights, to finish the metaphor. To my left, a grey car ascends the hill. To my right, a big old truck edges towards the red traffic lights and hopes it will turn green. It doesn't. The truck stops. I judge the distance and speed of the grey car. The light changes. The truck releases the brakes. I drove into the truck's lane. The just moving truck changes gears. He expects I shall move. We are on the same page, the truck and I. I turn to check the grey car. The driver inexplicably speeds up. The truck is coming closer too fast, but I can't risk jumping in front of the elderly
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