maybe she will be happy after all

And so I try to tell a story, from a child's perspective. Sussie hasn't got a friend yet. But she is having all the fun of playing hide-and-seek with the world, not letting everyone knows where she would go. Plunging her head into the mysterious world of the closet, she sinks. Flower of consciousness is fading away, until they reach the other end of the world.

Sussie feels sleepy, but she doesn't know where to begin in this transparent bubble. She was led here, but wasn't told how to go on. Before she can make sense of the surroundings, her skin starts to wilt under the sun and rain and snow and, hours. Then, flower of consciousness flows back from drifting, bringing waves after waves of water, flooding into the world of glass, making it even more transparent. Should I stay or should I go, Sussie can't even ask the question as she is almost suffocated by the streams of water, with the smell of the flower, and the many collapsing piles of t-shirts and jeans and socks.

And now, how should I continue the story? Should she go or should she stay? Even as the story-teller I am powerless in making the violent decision. I can simply manage to pause it, letting it there, not making a sound.