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His eyes drifted closed. "She smiled, a pulling of the lips that was grotesquely puppet-like, and slipped to his side in her silent white nurseshoes. 
I could make you help it. The truth, should you insist, was that the increasing dismissal of his work in the critical press as that of a "popular writer(which was, as he understood it, one step — a small one — above that of a "hack") had hurt him quite badly. Except he had seen something funny on the way home from lunch with Charlie, and it had given him an idea. Yet the book had continued to roll in spite of all the terrible things Annie had subjected him to, and he could bitch about how something — his guts, maybe — had run out of him along with the half-pint or so of blood hed lost when she took his thumb, but it was still a goddam good yarn, the best Misery novel by far. He laughed until he was choking and coughing, his cheeks red, tears spurting from the corners of his eyes. Another NEW ARRIVALS article. "If youre such a rotten story-teller, how come you have best-sellers and millions of people love the books you write? Even the stupidest swain could grasp the symbolism — the hero had been saved by God. __._,_.___YAHOO! GROUPS LINKS
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Title: Re[7]:
