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The End Is Near _ Stephen King

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The End Is Near _ Stephen King
#1
Nick looked at the strong muscles under Tom's shirt. Tom was lifting his bicycle over the guardrail boards and cables at the edge of the expressway. That guy saved my life, "he thought." I've never seen a tornado. If I had left this guy in Maytown as I thought before, I would have become a corpse by now. He lifted his bike over the broken cable, patted Tom on the back and smiled at him. We must find someone else, Nick thought. We must find someone else so I can thank him and tell him my name. He doesn't even know my name yet because he can't read. He stood there for a moment, amused by the idea. Then they got on their bikes and got on the road. That night, they camped on the left side of the baseball field for the junior team of the Rostone Junior Chamber of Commerce. The night sky was clear and full of stars. Nick's drowsiness soon came, and he had a dreamless night. When he woke up the next morning, he thought how nice it was to have someone around. It was very different from being alone. This is indeed Polk County, Nebraska. He must have talked to someone who mentioned Polk County, or he was from Polk County. And he just forgot it in his mind. There is also Route 30 here. But he couldn't believe it, at least on this bright morning,plastic pallet manufacturer, that they were actually looking for an old black woman sitting in the middle of the corn field with a guitar beside her and humming a song. He doesn't believe in foreknowledge or foresight. But it seems important that they go to a place to find humans. He was in tune with Frannie Goldsmith and Stu Redman's eagerness to get together. Until this idea can be realized, everything is strange and disconnected. Danger is everywhere. You can't see them, but you can feel them. This thought was somewhat similar to the feeling he had felt in the cellar yesterday that the man in black existed. You sense danger lurking everywhere, in the house, at the next corner of the highway,drum spill pallet, and perhaps even in sleeping cars and trucks all over the highway. If the danger is not there, it is in the calendar, hidden at the bottom of two or three pages. Any sign of existence seems to whisper the existence of danger. The bridge is broken. 40 miles of bad roads. It seems to say, "We are not responsible for the people who continue to move forward from this place." Part of the reason for this feeling may be a strong psychological shock from the emptiness and loneliness of the countryside. As long as it is in New York, it may be partially protected. This has nothing to do with whether Shuoyou is empty or not, at least not very much, because New York is insignificant in a series of events. But if you wander around, the danger is like.. He remembered a scene from a Disney movie he had seen when he was a child. A tulip took up the whole screen. It's so beautiful that you can't help but feel suffocated. After that, collapsible pallet bin ,collapsible pallet box, the camera suddenly pulls back at a very fast speed, and you see tulips everywhere. It discourages you and makes you feel bored. It creates a feeling of depression and heaviness, as if there is a circuit breaker between your inner world and the outer world that is "hissing" and disconnecting your inner communication with the outer world. This is too painful. But this feeling is the real experience of this trip. Shoyo was empty, and he could take it in his stride; but so were McNapo, Texarkana, and Spencerville; and Ardmore was reduced to ashes, and it was intolerable. He walked north on Highway 81 and saw only deer. Twice he saw signs of a possible human presence: a bonfire that might have been lit two days ago, and a deer that had been shot and hollowed out and washed. But there was no sign of anyone. This is enough to make you nervous, because you are gradually realizing how great the disaster and danger are! It wasn't just Shoyo or Macnabu or Texaco that was hit; it was the whole country. America is like a giant, abandoned tin can, with a few forgotten peas rolling around at the bottom. Outside the United States, the whole world may be the same. Thinking of this, Nick could not help but feel a chill in his heart, and he had to give up the idea. He bent over the map and pondered. If they continue to ride, their team may grow like a snowball. If they're lucky, they might run into someone else on the way from here to Nebraska (or if they run into a crowd, they might be taken in themselves). When he got to Nebraska, he thought they should go to another place. It's like a fruitless pursuit-they will never find what they dream of, and all their good hopes may be in vain. They can cut in from the northeast to Kansas City. Expressway 35 would take them to another spur of Highway 81, which would take them to Swedholm, Nebraska. There is the intersection of Highway 81 and Highway 92 in Nebraska. Another expressway, Highway 30, connects with both roads, forming one of the hypotenuse of the triangle. And somewhere in that triangle, it was the place he had dreamed of. He shuddered at the thought. A movement at the top of his line of sight caused him to raise his head. Tom sat there rubbing his eyes with his fists. A deep yawn seemed to cover the lower part of his face. Nick smiled at him, and he grinned back at Nick. Will we go further tomorrow? Asked Tom. Nick nodded his head. Well, that's great. I like riding my bike. Oh, my God, yes. I wish we could ride forever. Nick pushed the map aside and thought,plastic pallet price, God knows if this will happen? Might have to give you what you want. That morning, they turned east and had lunch at an intersection not far from the Oklahoma and Kansas City border. It was July 7, and the weather was not hot. binpallet.com
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