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In other words, 'freedom connected with speech' We all completely backed. The suggestions to book Firestarter - different followers is able to choose in regards to a publication. So his feeling that she was like an idol in a perfervid novel was not really surprising at all.
Like an idol, she gave only one thing: a feeling of unease deepening steadily toward terror. Like an idol, she took everything else. No, wait, that wasn't quite fair. She did give something else. She gave him the pills that brought the tide in over the pilings. The pills were the tide; Annie Wilkes was the lunar presence which pulled them into his mouth like jetsam on a wave. She brought him two every six hours, first announcing her presence only as a pair of fingers poking into his mouth and soon enough he learned to suck eagerly at those poking fingers in spite of the bitter taste , later appearing in her cardigan sweater and one of her half-dozen skirts, usually with a paperback copy of one of his novels tucked under her arm.
At night she appeared to him in a fuzzy pink robe, her face shiny with some sort of cream he could have named the main ingredient easily enough even though he had never seen the bottle from which she tipped it; the sheepy smell of the lanolin was strong and proclamatory , shaking him out of his frowzy, dream-thick sleep with the pills nestled in her hand and the poxy moon nestled in the window over one of her solid shoulders.
After awhile — after his alarm had become too great to be ignored — he was able to find out what she was feeding him. It was a pain-killer with a heavy codeine base called Novril. The reason she had to bring him the bedpan so infrequently was not only because he was on a diet consisting entirely of liquids and gelatines earlier, when he was in the cloud, she had fed him intravenously , but also because Novril had a tendency to cause constipation in patients taking it.
Another side- effect, a rather more serious one, was respiratory depression in sensitive patients. Paul was not particularly sensitive, even though he had been a heavy smoker for nearly eighteen years, but his breathing had stopped nonetheless on at least one occasion there might have been others, in the haze, that he did not remember.
That was the time she gave him mouth-to-mouth. It might have just been one of those things which happened, but he later came to suspect she had nearly killed him with an accidental overdose.
She didn't know as much about what she was doing as she believed she did. That was only one of the things about Annie that scared him. He discovered three things almost simultaneously, about ten days after having emerged from the dark cloud.
The first was that Annie Wilkes had a great deal of Novril she had in fact, a great many drugs of all kinds. The second was that he was hooked on Novril. The third was that Annie Wilkes was dangerously crazy. This was shortly, after he had asked the traditional when-the-sleeper-wakes question and she had told him he was in the little town of Sidewinder, Colorado. In addition she told him that she had read each of his eight novels at least twice, and had read her very favorites, the Misery novels, four, five, maybe six times.
She only wished he would write them faster. She said she had hardly been able to believe that her patient was really that Paul Sheldon even after checking the ID in his wallet. Her smile suddenly collapsed into a narrow watchfulness he didn't like much — it was like discovering a deep crevasse almost obscured by summer flowers in the midst of a smiling, jocund meadow. It's just that — ' It's just that the rest of my life is in it, he thought.
My life outside this room. Outside the pain. Outside the way time seems to stretch out like the long pink string of bubble-gum a kid pulls out of his mouth when he's bored. Because that's how it is in the last hour or so before the pills come. The crevasse was spreading, as if an earthquake was going on behind her brow. He could hear the steady, keen whine of the wind outside, and he had a sudden image of her picking him up and throwing him over her solid shoulder, where he would lie like a burlap sack slung over a stone wall, and taking him outside, and heaving him into a snowdrift.
He would freeze to death, but before he did, his legs would throb and scream. His father had made a career out of not noticing Paul any more than he absolutely had to, and had, so far as Paul could remember, offered him only a single piece of advice in his entire life. On Paul's fourteenth birthday his father had given him a Red Devil condom in a foil envelope.
Too many bastards in the world already, and I don't want to see you going in the Army at sixteen. If I offended you, I'm truly sorry. The crevasse closed. Summer flowers nodded cheerfully once again. Search for a book. Search Upload Book. Download Books Stephen King pdf. Stephen King.
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