Susan swallows, looking down at her hands, scratching at the leg of her jeans with one talon.
"I wish it was, too," she says, quietly. And in the back of her mind, bird and bear and hare and fish...
Has her fondest wish changed?
She sighs, reaching up to toy with her hair. There's an obnoxiously insistent part of her saying but it IS different. Susannah isn't here. Roland isn't here. Death already did you part, and worlds between him and his wife...
She can't afford to think like that. She can't afford to think herself round all the corners and loopholes, convince herself that it's not wrong. It is wrong. They both know it is. They're just going to have to work with it. The question is, can they avoid it? Her experience with Roland isn't exactly reassuring on that front.
"Tell me about her," she says, suddenly. "Susannah. Maybe it'll help."
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"I wish it was, too," she says, quietly. And in the back of her mind, bird and bear and hare and fish...
Has her fondest wish changed?
She sighs, reaching up to toy with her hair. There's an obnoxiously insistent part of her saying but it IS different. Susannah isn't here. Roland isn't here. Death already did you part, and worlds between him and his wife...
She can't afford to think like that. She can't afford to think herself round all the corners and loopholes, convince herself that it's not wrong. It is wrong. They both know it is. They're just going to have to work with it. The question is, can they avoid it? Her experience with Roland isn't exactly reassuring on that front.
"Tell me about her," she says, suddenly. "Susannah. Maybe it'll help."