Suzanne with a Z in seat 28, row L. Her Z nudges her. The stage skips out of the theater door as a dozen eyes glare at her. Suzanne's dog-eared script grabs her hand. Her Z sighs. An impossible audience taps Suzanne's shoulder, reminding her of faded memories and glory. Carl can't kiss. Never could. Suzanne tangled in a duvet determined to orgasm. Never happened. Her Z wilted. Pretend Carl, pretend.
A faltering ego with long legs and ginger curls waltzes past the proscenium arch and throws herself into the orchestra pit. Suzanne catches her with one hand while her Z slaps Carl. Like this Carl, like this. Suzanne's lips leap onto Carl's mouth and chew it off. Suzanne embraced by rubysweet tendrils. Suzanne splattered with passion. Suzanne in splendor. Her Z strokes Carl's hair. "Places!" says the ghost lamp.
Suzanne with a Z in seat 28, row L. Carl breaks a leg. The ginger ego takes a bow. Bouquets ride through applauding thespian air. Z slips out of the theater door as the curtain falls. Suzanne burns with acclaim. Carl still can't kiss. Suzanne marries him anyway. ©kcasady2014
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