He lay in the ditch. He had fallen. The brakes had failed and he had gone over the bars and into the dirt and rock wall. But he had not gone off the mountain. He was not slain. He was only wounded. I will lay and bleed a little, he said aloud. Then I will get back up and true this mangled wheel and I will ride down from this mountain.
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We await this story and are intrigued by its preface.
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