"Once you're dead -- or I'm dead -- we can't say our final good-byes, now can we?" Donald had asked with calm, deliberate, chilling effect.
Donald usually yelled and screamed. He paced back and forth. He'd never acted with such deadly calm before.
She'd shivered. She'd shaken from head to foot like somebody in a fever.
"What -- what do you mean?"
Now her voice had been a hushed whisper. Louise hadn't known why.
"If you don't return from Alberta, Louise, I'll never have a chance to tell you how much I love you, how much I've always loved you."
Louise had shaken her head. "Donald, this doesn't make any sense. You're acting like a crazy person who's lost his mind."
"Losing you doesn't make for sanity."
He'd said that with such a certainty of conviction that Louise's hand had spasmed. Her glass had fallen to the floor. It had spattered the rug with red wine. This guy had been creeping her out.
"I'm not dead yet, Donald. I'm --- I'm right here." She'd stooped down to retrieve the glass.
"For the moment."
"Donald, stop it!"
She'd stomped her foot and burst into tears. He'd just been acting too queer. She'd shaken her head and bolted for the door. She'd stopped with her hand on the door knob.
"If you leave this room, you're a dead girl."
Donald usually yelled and screamed. He paced back and forth. He'd never acted with such deadly calm before.
She'd shivered. She'd shaken from head to foot like somebody in a fever.
"What -- what do you mean?"
Now her voice had been a hushed whisper. Louise hadn't known why.
"If you don't return from Alberta, Louise, I'll never have a chance to tell you how much I love you, how much I've always loved you."
Louise had shaken her head. "Donald, this doesn't make any sense. You're acting like a crazy person who's lost his mind."
"Losing you doesn't make for sanity."
He'd said that with such a certainty of conviction that Louise's hand had spasmed. Her glass had fallen to the floor. It had spattered the rug with red wine. This guy had been creeping her out.
"I'm not dead yet, Donald. I'm --- I'm right here." She'd stooped down to retrieve the glass.
"For the moment."
"Donald, stop it!"
She'd stomped her foot and burst into tears. He'd just been acting too queer. She'd shaken her head and bolted for the door. She'd stopped with her hand on the door knob.
"If you leave this room, you're a dead girl."
Used availability for Linda Cargill's Death on the Ice