Wild Wings

Did tell you. The boy fumbled sulkily at the leaves of a magazine that lay on the table. I took the car out and, when I was speeding like Sam Hill out on the Florence road, I struck a hole. She stood up on her ear and pitched u–er–me out in the gutter. Stuck her own nose into a telephone pole. I telephoned the garage people to go after her this morning. They told me a while ago she was pretty badly stove up and it will probably take a couple of weeks to get her in order. The story came out jerkily and the narrator kept his eyes consistently floorward during the recital.