GINGER AND BUBBLES

1| RED YELLOW AND ORANGE

Suzan, seated in front of her dressing table in her bedroom, stares into the mirror. A few other bare essentials complete her sleeping quarters: A built-in wardrobe along one wall; A single bed facing the window; A four-legged bedside pedestal and digital alarm clock in the centre of the wooden surface fills up the rest of the space.

She props her chin on her palms and addresses the reflection of her face in the mirror. "What if I got contacts? What if I dyed my hair? What if I defied her and retrieved that little black number. And the stilettos..."

Too many what ifs

Startled by the intrusion, she glances around her surroundings, grimaces and faces the mirror once again. "My apologies. That was her. The other voice inside my head. Correction. One of them. Where was I. Oh yes. What if I get contact lenses. Yellow ones? Maybe. What if I dye this thinning hair. Better stil. What if I get fake lashes and nails and extensions and..."

Still too many what ifs.

Suzan releases a long, drawn out sigh. "Too much. I know. But, but—why not? What would my life be like a year from now if I could look like that?"

What are you waiting for?

She shuts her eyes as if to drown out something that distracts her thoughts. "But I can't be the girl above. Deceiving people is not in my nature. That's inappropriate. Evil. The devil—"

Here we go again. Poor grey Shaz. Blaming the devil again. Poor devil.

She pulled her upper lip in displeasure. "I like it when people address me as Suzan. Dorel. Delheim. Exactly like that. With all the pauses in between."

Weirdo. People don't care about your quirks. Get over yourself, Shaz. Shaz. Shaz.

Suzan's face contorts into an expression of disapproval. "I am a reasonable person. Simple. Uncomplicated. Logical."

To you. Maybe.

Suzan presses her hands over her ears to shut out the sound of mocking laughter. "I love simple, uncomplicated things. Like my name. Suzan. Dorel. Delheim. A sturdy name with an air of sophistication."

Different strokes for—

Suzan composes herself and clears her throat. "Suzan Dorel Delheim is a good name. To me."

To you. Thank you for clearing that up.

I think I'm at a crossroads...

Here we go again.

Her eyes well up. "Ahead of me is one long winding road with no end in sight. Darkness on my right." She looks to her left. "And on my left...an empty space. Nothing."

Take the winding road, dummy.

"Maybe I must go to the animal shelter. Get a cat or a dog. She shakes her head from left to right. But I'm not an animal person."

You need a—

"Animals are messy. Like men. She pinches a tear between her two fingers. And needy. Like men. Men are bad news, Suzan. Dorel. Delheim,
Stick to your Bible. And your career.

Oh purrr-lease. Heaven open swallow me alive and make flour with my bones.

Suzan rolls her eyes. "Where was I? Oh yes. Bible. There's this other thingy I—"

Me. Me. There's me.

She bites her lower lip. "I lead an existence that kind of resonate in the people-shaming dictionary as—"