They were scared deep in their recta, but they leaped out of the foxhole and ran to the rescue, but by the time they got there Bucket-head had already stopped one of the enemy and the rest of them headed back upstream.
Mr [Bob] Kroll grew up in a blue-collar, union family in the city centre but moved out, one more case of white flight.
And there was Conductor Reyes, who was perfectly ordinary until one day he popped his cork and started explaining delays by announcing Command Center's telephone number and urging riders to phone for themselves.
We were fain to button up our monkey jackets, and hold to our lips cups of scalding tea with our half frozen fingers.
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