I'm reading this book about reading poetry (titled Don't Read Poetry, actually), and the first chapter touches on poems about imprisonment, such as feeling trapped in a body... and from the recesses of my mind, a story about a young girl trapped in a sick body floated up. Specifically, a moment where she reflected on how "healthy" for her was a pipe dream. Wish fulfillment. Fantasy. Despite how real it was for so many other people.
I read your stories over a decade ago, when they were posted on Fictionpress, and somehow your pen name still floated up from my memory, along with the "six feet" part of Six Feet from Paradise. There are published books I've read that I don't remember with this amount of fondness. Authors whose names are just lost to me, because what they wrote entertained, but did not make me feel.
It doesn't have to be perfect to be loved. Please publish, as I would love to read it again, and recommend it to people, and watch it be made into an inferior movie.
