Roommates

Mostly Susan

Susan was four and a half weeks old, and she couldn't have been happier. Jonathan had taken to his new maidenhood like a rookie policeman takes to donuts.

He went from tee shirt and jeans to summer frocks and heels in the first week and never looked back.

Outfits were no problem. He had a closet full of stuff that the other Susan hadn't bothered to pick up.

And it was a lot more than just bountiful tits. What Edmond had worked deep inside him was some kind of Voodoo. Each day, it seemed, a new wonder. His shape, skin, hair, and voice. Even the way he moved and thought, changing moment by moment. Each second there was more of scrumptious Susan and less of the just Jonathan.

It was like drinking expensive champagne—bubbly, exciting and inebriating. He couldn't get enough of it and hoped it would never stop flowing.

Saturday was both beautiful and sunny. Even better, over the night a spring shower had sluiced the streets, sidewalks, and gutters of their accustomed litter and grime.

Susan figured it was the perfect time to go shopping at the 57th Street Open Market.

The crowded stalls overflowed with produce and fruits from upstate. She had her heart set on something fresh and refreshing with dinner. 'A country salad,' she decided, 'That's the thing. With cherry tomatoes, romaine and...English cucumbers!'

She'd just wrapped her slim fingers round a dark green cucumber, drinking the warmth of the sunshine, when someone said, "May I help you, Miss?"

She smiled, always surprised, and never weary of hearing that one sweet word, "Miss."

"Susan."

"Such a beautiful name."

"Not really. It's plain."

"It is your beauty that makes the name beautiful."

She didn't know what to say so she settled for a smile and a blush.

From the warmth in the young man's eyes, she knew it must have been exactly the right thing to not say.

"I am Neno."

"Do you have any larger cukes...Neno?" Susan asked.

"Cukes?" the young man puzzled—still managing to look the adorable puppy.

"Cucumbers," Susan smiled.

"For such a beauty as you that is beyond a shame. It is an outrage!"

Then it was Susan's turn to look puzzled and adorable. That is until she got the young man's jest.

"No, Silly Goose! For the salad."

"Are you sure? If otherwise, I know I have something for you—very invigorating—very satisfying."

Susan felt weird, not that she didn't like it. It was as if someone had opened up a plug deep inside her and something warm and wet was spilling out.

She fought the urge to squirm and wriggle, choosing instead to lean in close and whisper in his ear. "Yes, I would very much like to try your something. Maybe tomorrow, yes?"

He placed the vegetables in a plastic bag, a silly smile on his face, like a little boy with a secret.

When he handed it to her, his fingers brushed her own, warm and real.

"Till tomorrow, Susan."

"Yes, Neno."

The next morning Susan searched for Neno's stall but couldn't find it.

"Isn't it just terrible," she overheard one woman say to another.

"Yes. No one is safe in this city anymore."

"And Neno with a wife and child. Do they know how he died?"

"They said they still can't be sure. Not till they find all the pieces."