The Angle

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In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"On that brisk February evening Elizabeth and I stood side by side on the Greyhound station waiting platform. It was so cold I thought my feet and fingertips would freeze. I could see no reason why everyone had to wait so long to board the bus. Although I wasn't enjoying it at all, it didn't seem to bother Elizabeth; she seemed very comfortable as she held tightly onto my arm. It struck me as if zero, waiting, and our coming separation weren't in her mind at all; I knew she was trying not to think of them. I felt bad that I would be back home in fifteen minutes and she had a twelve-hour bus ride ahead of her. In spite of being very cold and impatient, I thought of these things. I knew my love for her was as cold as the pavement and empty air around us. This was the reason that I shivered heavily underneath my coat and gloves. I knew why she did not shiver as she stood so straight in her high heels. I knew why she held my arm more tightly and that she was probably looking at me and smiling. I just couldn't look in her eyes very long. Everytime l did her love seemed to come forth in that look, and I knew it must return injured; it had never met what it had itself."

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