Status Updates From Sunburn

In the dresser, there are two sets of rosary beads, a Brigid’s cross, and an
iron pendant on a chain. And then there is her, more worthy of worship,
with a knee on either side of my hips.

Of all people, Martin is the one I want to tell that Susannah O’Shea is not just a girl from our class, but that she is a seraph who found Crossmore, and that I don’t have time for him because I am too busy kneeling at the altar of her navel.

Here she is at the door; she creeps across the floor to me. Is she
embarrassed all of a sudden? What I wouldn’t give to roll my eyes at her
now, to pull my hand away as she tries to hold it. The luxury of being
annoyed at her is something I cannot afford.

What better way to offend Catríona than for Susannah to parade around the
house with the sheen of me on her chin?

Susannah is so powerful, she is too much to be denied, she is the sort of
woman that could pull rocks up from the earth.

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