A NAME I WOULD KNOW BY SUSANNA SPACE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 48
She approached me after the first publishing class. “Holly,” she said, holding out her hand. Her nails painted a glossy beige. Crisp white shirt, dewy skin, bracelets jingling on slender wrists. “I’m in law too,” she said with a wide smile, sticking her finger in her mouth in a mock forced vomit. I mock-sneered back. Laughter.
As we talked, her words bubbled with a sharp wit that belied her soft brown eyes, eyes a half-size too large for her other, more delicate features. She touched my wrist, laughed at something I said. Her loose, easy way, her forthrightness, the sparkle of blush on her cheeks, her laugh, deep and full, it all captivated me.
I learned later it was my necklace that drew her to me. Tiny beads in a double loop set against white cotton. My style, as she would name it.