Suzanne didn’t go by Sue because she liked how the word filled a person’s mouth. You could watch her savour that sweet taste of fruit, the fatigue in her wrist after reading too long.
Her world was an open door with a beaming ray of possibility sitting just beyond its helm, beginning just to spill in. Warm and orange and sheltering from something like the cold of mountain storms.
Suzanne fantasized about being a famous actress. About her walls covered in pearls, circled by gem leaves. Cut out with windows letting the sea breeze and wild birds and rabid animals in that the palace children would chase and hunt for sport. The bodies of which they’d cast from their small fists into the water below,
9:43 pm Oct. 29, 2026
