by Captain Scotty Smiley with Doug Crandall
From Chapter 1: Dependence Day
Probably another half an hour went by until I found a curb and its landing. The three-inch increase in elevation was enough to alleviate my fears of being mowed down by a sanitation truck or a spirited teen-ager with attention fixated on the sounds of Linkin Park. I stepped up on to the sidewalk, threw my horrible stick down, and burst into tears. Every salty drop of the last remaining fluid in my body carried with it pounds of pain. I had lived through a car bomb, narrowly escaped the piercing death of hot bullets, and now I was going to die as a pathetic blind guy in a Silicon Valley parking lot?
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