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Sonder: Spiritual Fiction

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Donna Goddard

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“I am Sally Skellington, the Pumpkin Queen." There is warmth in my chest now, heat and fury and anger. "But I was born in Dream Town." The words feel like their won conjuring, a spell, a ritual or bedtime riddle to cast things into the stars and make them true. I feel suddenly awake and alive, a woman who isn't simply a rag doll, but a ruler who has traveled to all the realms, even the human world, to set things right. Who feels a spark, a wrath growing inside her.”

“He wipes away the tear streaming down my cotton cheekbone to my chin and looks at me like his own chest is about to fracture. And for a moment, I'm certain they should just bury us both here, at the center of the graveyard. Married and died on the same day. Unable to contain the unspeakable, awful, wondrous emotion breaking against our eyelids. The dreadful residents of Halloween Town applaud, tossing tiny dwarf spiders at our feet as we leave the cemetery, and the warmth in my chest feels like bats clamoring for a way out of my rib cage. Trying to break me apart. I am now Sally Skellington. The Pumpkin Queen. And I'm certain I will never again be as happy as I am right now.”

“It feels like a fairy tale from one of those happily-ever-after books where the princess storms the castle, slays a goblin-dragon, and takes over the kingdom for herself. Except I am not golden-haired or fine-boned. I have no bones at all. I am a rag doll who married a skeleton king. A rag doll who woke from the impossible daydream and found herself in her own heroine story--a tale whose ending hasn't yet been written; but instead, is only just the beginning.”

“Fane and Jacque looked up from the table when they heard Sally's singing all through the cafeteria. She was belting out at the top of her lungs Train's "Meet Virginia". A very pissed off looking Jen was dragging her IV pole as quickly as she could without falling, trying to catch up to her quarry. By the time Sally had reached the table, she had tears “streaming down her face from laughing so hard. She leaned over the table, panting, finishing her serenade. "Her confidence is tragic, but her intuition magic, and the shape of her body, unusual, meet Virginia!" Sally ended dramatically, arms in the air like Vanna White indicating where Jen now stood. Much to Jen's chagrin the entire cafeteria broke into applause. Jen pasted on her most dazzling smile and waved at everyone adoringly, but to Sally she muttered under her breath, "This is war.”

“Kelly and I saw a future (otherwise known as the sixth grade) in which we would remain invisible and unchanged while around us other girls suddenly bloomed. In Kelly's version, the girls burst, blousy peonies after the first hot summer night. In mine, after seven days and seven nights of rain, these girls became dandelions while we remained green clumps of crabgrass. Kelly and I knew what we needed. Lips that looked pink, wet, and just licked. Sally Campbell's lips had started to look that way at the beginning of fifth grade. Sally was pretty, and pretty girls were always ahead of the rest of us. Sally's lips and also her mouth smelled of strawberry bubblegum. Kelly and I were jealous of both the shine and the scent. In order to make us feel better, I told Kelly that the word "Sally" tasted of pumpkins, without the brown sugar or the cinnamon. Just a squash. Sally, nonetheless, set the example for us. Lips that could be seen from across the classroom we understood were desirable, and gloss for them has to be our first acquisition. Kelly begged her mother, Beth Anne, and then resorted to a promise of future weight loss for a shade of pink called Flamingo Paradise, which Beth Anne picked out for her. Beth Anne, at the time, didn't pay attention to Kelly. Beth Anne completely ignored the fact that her only daughter had asked her for lip gloss, strawberry-bubblegum-flavored. Flamingo Paradise was lipstick, the kind that my grandmother Iris wore. It went on creamy but soon became cracked and dry. The only flavor it gave to our lips was something that also belonged to Iris: talcum powder mixed with a crushed vanilla cream wafer.”