Stephen king key5/22/2023 ![]() We were married for twenty-five years, but you know what they say: shit happens. By the time it did, my wife had gone, and not just sort of. I was supposed to be mentally impaired thanks to the contracoup thing, and at first I was, but it passed. ![]() I was supposed to lose my life, but didn’t. ![]() And although I retained seventy per cent of the sight in my right eye (more, on a good day), I lost my right arm. The doctors called what happened to my head a contracoup injury, and that kind of thing often does more damage than the original hit. My memory is better than it used to be, but it’s still a long way from what it once was. The left side was slammed so hard against the Ram’s doorpost that it fractured in three places. It was pretty simple when a pickup truck, even a Dodge Ram with all the bells and whistles, argues with a twelve-story crane, the pickup is going to lose every time. At the time things went wrong, my wife and I were planning to go and visit her. We had two girls, and at the end of our particular Golden Age, Ilse was at Brown and Melinda was teaching in France, as part of a foreign exchange program. By the time I was fifty, Pam and I were worth forty million dollars. But I did play my hunches, and most played out well. When things tightened up, I never tried to play big. ![]() Paul boomed, The Freemantle Company boomed. ![]()
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