Soul Music - Creation

'Hold on,' she said, to her reflection. 'Here . . . I can create things, can't I?'

She held out her hand and thought: cup. A cup appeared. It had a skull-and-bones pattern around the rim.

'Ah,' said Susan. 'I suppose a pattern of roses is out of the question? Probably not right for the ambience, I expect.'

She put the cup on the dressing table and tapped it. It went plink in a solid sort of way.

'Well, then,' she said, 'I don't want something soppy and posey. No silly black lace or anything worn by idiots who write poetry in their rooms and dress like vampires and are vegetarians really.'

The images of clothes floated across her reflection. It was clear that black was the only option, but she settled on something practical and without frills. She put her head on one side critically.

'Well, maybe a bit of lace,' she said. 'And perhaps a bit more . . . bodice.'

She nodded at her reflection in the mirror. Certainly it was a dress that no Susan would ever wear, although she suspected that there was a basic Susanness about her which would permeate it after a while.

'It's a good job you're here,' she said, 'or I'd go totally mad. Haha.'

***

Soul Music - p94-95