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The fact was simple: he wanted to take care of Annie Wilkes himself. He slammed the door shut in a hurry. He was surprised to find it still looked to him like one of Wells's striding machines of destruction. "None after Wicks and McKnight carried him from Annie's house on a makeshift litter, Paul Sheldon was dividing his time between Doctors Hospital in Queens and a new apartment on the East Side of Manhattan. The bailiff asked her to state her name, and over and over again she said it was Annie Wilkes, but she said no more; she sat there with her fibrous solid ominous body displacing air and said her name over and over again but no more than that. but he doubted if the cockadoodie Roydmans or anyone else up here had anything which came close to what he was now looking at. Bookings had performed Misery's few last rites in the churchyard which lay behind the rectory, and this fellow had been there — but lurking considerately in the background, where he was less apt to be noticed.A carpet of green forest climbed the flank of the nearest mountain. I had some trouble starting the bike, or I would have been back an hour ago. She had changed into a fresh white tee-shirt and a pair of chinos. There was a floof! If I really go into overdrive, five days.

"I'd like some different paper, if you could get it,»he said when she came back to put the typewriter and paper on the board. He brushed frantically at his face and knocked away not fingers but a large spider. They had bought a house in March, and that was not step you took if you felt that your marriage was falling apart. She was as close to pretty as Annie Wilkes ever could be, and when he tried to remember that scene later the only clear images he could fix upon were her flushed cheeks and the sprigged hat. "When they come I'll stand right out there in the driveway and say yes, there was a state trooper that came by here. He had just a moment to wonder if she might not have put a bolt on the outside of the door as well — he had tried very hard to seem weaker and sicker than he now really felt, but the suspicions of the true paranoiac spread wide and ran deep. Her world was corny and melodramatic, but that did not change the fact that returning there had been nowhere near as distasteful as he had expected — it had been, in fact, rather comforting, like putting on a pair of old slippers. Paul leaned back, put his hand over his eyes, and, like it or not, he began to go through it. He thought Constant Reader would not swallow two unrelated women in neighboring townships being buried alive six months apart as a result of bee-stings. She had done it, and all the time between then and now had been pain and boredom and occasional bouts of work on his stupidly melodramatic book to escape the former two. It looked like she really chowed down as well, and never mind cleaning up after. The photograph, enclosed in a rococo frame of gold gilt, was the size of the President's photograph in the lobby of a big-city post office. She upended her own and drank half of it without stopping; then she stifled a burp, ladylike, against her hand. She had made him drink water from a floor-bucket; had withheld his medication until he was in agony; had made him burn the only copy of his new novel; had handcuffed him and stuck a rag reeking of furniture polish in his mouth; but she would not take the money from his wallet. Is it sticking out, twinkling cheerily in the sun, just waiting for someone to come along and see it while you sit here wasting what may be your last chance? This was an old-fashioned room with bright linoleum on the floor and a pressed-tin ceiling. She giggled like a child at the jokes on M*A*S*H* and WKRP, laughing especially hard at the jokes which were mildly off-color (which, in the case of WKRP, was most of them. Although the picture accompanying the obit was even grainier and fuzzier than usual, Paul saw that Paulette Simeaux made "Queenie»Beaulifant look like Thumbelina. "The right cheek, even harder, hard enough to make droplets of blood fly from the fingernail gouges. I'll say I asked him in for a cup of coffee even though I was in a hurry to be on my way and they'll ask me why. He rolled clumsily onto his stomach burrowed one arm deep under the mattress, and brought out one of the Novril sample cards. "She tossed the open bottle of Betadine over her shoulder, her face blank and empty and yet so unarguably solid; she slid her right hand down the handle of the axe alnost to the steel head.