{"title":"再见","authors":"Arrivederci, Linda M. Dengle","doi":"10.2307/j.ctv153k6rm.86","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"HE SAT on the sidewalk, a compact little unit; legs crossed and his head down between his knees. Danny’s forehead pressed against the sidewalk. His back stuck u p into the air, and I could see the bones of his vertebrae in a straight row marching up to his neck and down again even through the thickness of his jeans. Also, I thought, like the spines on the back of a dinosaur...","PeriodicalId":431746,"journal":{"name":"Diary of a Detour","volume":"1 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2020-08-10","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Arrivederci\",\"authors\":\"Arrivederci, Linda M. Dengle\",\"doi\":\"10.2307/j.ctv153k6rm.86\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"HE SAT on the sidewalk, a compact little unit; legs crossed and his head down between his knees. Danny’s forehead pressed against the sidewalk. His back stuck u p into the air, and I could see the bones of his vertebrae in a straight row marching up to his neck and down again even through the thickness of his jeans. Also, I thought, like the spines on the back of a dinosaur...\",\"PeriodicalId\":431746,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"Diary of a Detour\",\"volume\":\"1 1\",\"pages\":\"0\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.0000,\"publicationDate\":\"2020-08-10\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"0\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"Diary of a Detour\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv153k6rm.86\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"\",\"JCRName\":\"\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Diary of a Detour","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv153k6rm.86","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
HE SAT on the sidewalk, a compact little unit; legs crossed and his head down between his knees. Danny’s forehead pressed against the sidewalk. His back stuck u p into the air, and I could see the bones of his vertebrae in a straight row marching up to his neck and down again even through the thickness of his jeans. Also, I thought, like the spines on the back of a dinosaur...
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