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From: Lewis Ladd
Subject: Fwd:
Date: Tue, 19 Sep 2006 07:46:30 -0400

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Do you know why? "He really did go to lunch with Charlie Merrill. In real time it did not last long; perhaps five seconds and surely no longer than ten. He turned off the outside light and rolled across to the, other door, the one between the refrigerator and the pantry. But both had discovered that good advice was sometimes easier to give than receive. I could get you up there in the back of the police-car, out getting you back down would be impossible. AUTHORITY had arrived at Annie's, and its arrival here could do nothing but shorten his own life.It's the thread that runs through everything. How close he had come. He'd be alive now and there would be none of this oogy mess to clean up. He hadn't cared for her mood this morning. ""Yes, in the parlor,»Ian had managed.

She stood looking at him, at the darkening, bloody sheets with vague consternation — her face was the face of a woman who hears on her radio that an earthquake has killed ten thousand people in Pakistan or Turkey. Then she twisted the nozzle off and walked back along the hose's length, looping it over her arm. these things mattered not at all, these things were only shadows behind the pain. "She put the board on the arms of the wheelchair and then put the tray on the board. I keep them right next to the freezer compartment, and that keeps them as cold as you can get them without freezing them. He wrote another three hours, although by ten o'clock the pain had begun to be quite bad. He did not want to look at the typewriter and for awhile resisted, but at last his eyes rolled helplessly toward it. There were lots of sardines in those flat rectangular cans with the key under the paper. ""It'll be all right,»she said, and her face now had that slack, unplugged look — that look of perplexed vacuity — and before his mind was completely consumed in a forest fire of panic he understood that when this was over, she would have only the vaguest memories of what she had done, as she had only the vaguest memories of killing the children and the old people and the terminal patients and Andrew Pomeroy. And had her heart risen up when Misery told Ian she was pregnant and Ian had crushed her to him, tears flowing from his eyes, muttering "My dear, oh, my dear! He saw her pulling her lip out, digging her short nails into its sensitive pink meat. Paul knew that even an exhaustive analysis would turn up precious few traces of blood — his car had spent most of the spring with snowmelt running through it at flood-speed. When he had done all he could, he reversed again and looked at the door, trying to see it through Annie's exquisitely suspicious eyes. "There,»she said, almost conversationally, and walked away m the direction from which she had come running. "He had chalked it off to the pain and to being in a situation where he was not just writing for his supper but for his life. He hadn't lived the life of a hero or a saint, but he did not intend to die like an exotic bird in a zoo. Just the instant it cleared the doorframe — a push — The pin was simultaneously starting to bend and slip. She'll want to see if Sheldon really turned into Luciano Pavarotti, or if it just sounds that way. It had been tidy before, but now there were dirty dishes stacked on every available surface; it looked to Paul as if every one in the house must be here. "She tipped the blade of the axe flat, the tendons standing out in her strong right wrist, and he could see the wink of the amethyst ring she still wore on the pinkie finger of that hand. "Take this,»she said, and put a hand still cool from the out-of-doors on the back of his neck so he could sit up enough to drink without choking. Her phone was dead and he somehow doubted if Annie would send him a telegram or Flowers by Wire.


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