If you live in Lincoln you may have seen him yourself. His name is Greg, three quarters native and one white, both of various kinds, and bound to a wheelchair on account of a lost foot. He lost the foot after drinking Four Loko and passing out on the BNSF railroad, the Omaha-bound north side tracks. He has a place but decided to get drunk on the tracks. This may have been a suicide attempt though he says it wasn't. Or perhaps the American romance of getting drunk on the railroad called to him. Doesn't it call everyone with blood in their veins? Of maybe it wasn't a suicide attempt as such so much as indifference to if he woke up or not. As it is he woke up with one foot and the rest of him alive enough to be obliged to deal.
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