Book1:TeDream-Maker

andbattered．Thedyopehedoorofthedsatinthedriver’sseat．

    "MynameisMegginnBowman”shesaid.Thisbigpieceofjunkisreallyatrocious．Twoofitseightdersarebrokenandithastroublestartingupbyitself．IknowitshouldgotothejunkyardandIshouldgetanewcar,butIgrewupwithitandit’slikeadearoldfriendtome,bringingbaemories,soI’mstilldrivingit.”ShesteppedonthegasandDimitripushedandshoveduntiltheeartedupandthecarmoved.

    “Thankyousomuch,sir．Seeyouter．Ithinkwe’llmeetagain.”Dimitristoodtherelookingatthedisappearingcar,thinking，

    "Man’sbodyisreallylikeamae,moreprecisely,likeanautomobile,withthetinysteeringwheelinourbraintakingandbysendingoutneurologicalmessagestootherpartsofthebody,diregtheiras．Thedthedrivercoopera