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Previous sequence: www.deviantart.com/daughterski…

When Veronica came to visit Susan's apartment one afternoon all she found was an empty wheelchair and a tattered dress on the floor. After placing her bouquet of green roses in a vase Veronica looked high and low for her dear friend. But nobody in the apartment-block seemed to remember the Susan girl leaving, hell, nobody seemed to remember who the Susan girl was at all. It was as if she just evaporated from memory. Holding back tears Veronica pleaded for some sign, any sign, of what happened to her. Instead, Susan was gone, and her absence filled like a vacuum. Not even Susan's other dear friends recall ever knowing her. Had she even existed at all?

A year on Veronica was walking home from work when Susan popped by to say hello. Checking to see there no was no one else around, Veronica tore into Susan: for leaving without a word, for never calling back, for popping up from the dead and acting as if nothing had happened. Veronica's anger then turned to sobbing and soon Susan's shoulder was very damp. Susan apologised to Veronica and told her she was better now; the chiming of bells no longer rang in her head and her body no longer weakened beneath her. The details of her recovery were foggy, all that mattered is that she would never hurt Veronica like that again. Susan then held Veronica in her arms.

Some years after that Susan was in her workshop, brainstorming ideas for a dress-design. It was all and well good to make a living sewing clothes, but she knew she had the potential for a killer pattern of her own design. All she needed was a spark of inspiration. While walking through town one day, a brochure carried by the wind blew into her face. It was for a museum exhibit that showed historic art of deities worshipped in ages past. Taking it as a sign Susan paid a visit. There, among the statues, carvings, and paintings, she found a curious tapestry. It depicted a winged snake, turquoise in colour, that had no definite origin. It appeared in Norse legend, dallied in Aztec dogma, and surfaced in Celtic myth. It might be the one snake. It might be members of a family. Who knows? Either way Susan was entranced by the beauty of the serpent. She took dozens of photos of the tapestry and bought the merch as well. Her son would love a snake plushie.

Later that evening in the shop Susan was hard at work at her sewing machine. By desk-light she cut and stitched together fabric of many colours, threaded feathers into felt, and co-ordinated baubles by shade and hue. While working on the dress Veronica kissed her on the head goodnight as she did every evening. Then she checked the nearby green roses in a vase to see if they were still fresh before retiring. Susan kept her mind clear of distraction as she sewed. Like the snake, Susan was happily oblivious to her own origin. She didn't know in the scheme of things that she was a dream given life much like her design was an idea given shape. It was because of her family with Veronica, and her passion for her art, that she grew a human spirit. A spirit which would travel the same plain as Veronica's in the afterlife, if such a place exists.

Not concerning herself with matters of the soul, Susan went off searching for bobby pins in a drawer before turning in for the night.

*

Commission drawn by Fokk3rs . Comments welcome.

Description
Previous sequence: www.deviantart.com/daughterski…

When Veronica came to visit Susan's apartment one afternoon all she found was an empty wheelchair and a tattered dress on the floor. After placing her bouquet of green roses in a vase Veronica looked high and low for her dear friend. But nobody in the apartment-block seemed to remember the Susan girl leaving, hell, nobody seemed to remember who the Susan girl was at all. It was as if she just evaporated from memory. Holding back tears Veronica pleaded for some sign, any sign, of what happened to her. Instead, Susan was gone, and her absence filled like a vacuum. Not even Susan's other dear friends recall ever knowing her. Had she even existed at all?

A year on Veronica was walking home from work when Susan popped by to say hello. Checking to see there no was no one else around, Veronica tore into Susan: for leaving without a word, for never calling back, for popping up from the dead and acting as if nothing had happened. Veronica's anger then turned to sobbing and soon Susan's shoulder was very damp. Susan apologised to Veronica and told her she was better now; the chiming of bells no longer rang in her head and her body no longer weakened beneath her. The details of her recovery were foggy, all that mattered is that she would never hurt Veronica like that again. Susan then held Veronica in her arms.

Some years after that Susan was in her workshop, brainstorming ideas for a dress-design. It was all and well good to make a living sewing clothes, but she knew she had the potential for a killer pattern of her own design. All she needed was a spark of inspiration. While walking through town one day, a brochure carried by the wind blew into her face. It was for a museum exhibit that showed historic art of deities worshipped in ages past. Taking it as a sign Susan paid a visit. There, among the statues, carvings, and paintings, she found a curious tapestry. It depicted a winged snake, turquoise in colour, that had no definite origin. It appeared in Norse legend, dallied in Aztec dogma, and surfaced in Celtic myth. It might be the one snake. It might be members of a family. Who knows? Either way Susan was entranced by the beauty of the serpent. She took dozens of photos of the tapestry and bought the merch as well. Her son would love a snake plushie.

Later that evening in the shop Susan was hard at work at her sewing machine. By desk-light she cut and stitched together fabric of many colours, threaded feathers into felt, and co-ordinated baubles by shade and hue. While working on the dress Veronica kissed her on the head goodnight as she did every evening. Then she checked the nearby green roses in a vase to see if they were still fresh before retiring. Susan kept her mind clear of distraction as she sewed. Like the snake, Susan was happily oblivious to her own origin. She didn't know in the scheme of things that she was a dream given life much like her design was an idea given shape. It was because of her family with Veronica, and her passion for her art, that she grew a human spirit. A spirit which would travel the same plain as Veronica's in the afterlife, if such a place exists.

Not concerning herself with matters of the soul, Susan went off searching for bobby pins in a drawer before turning in for the night.

*

Commission drawn by Fokk3rs . Comments welcome.