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“I’m intrigued already,” Suit Guy offered.
“Shush, I’m speaking here.”
“Go on,” he said grinning.
“But slowly we see her strength of character as she faces some truly horrific things.”
“I like the sound of that. Drama.”
I nodded my head.
“She struggles,” I said. “It’s heartbreaking. She thinks she’ll never escape.”
“That sounds sad. Emotional.”
“But,” I added, tipping my head to the side and staring at nothing, “slowly she stands up for herself. She realises she can’t stay where she is. She has to get out. It’s tough; making that decision. It’s hard, and she doubts she has the strength.”
“She has the strength,” Suit Guy said.
“Does she?”
“Yes. Definitely. Now we’ve got hope.”
“She stands up for herself,” I said. “She stands up for herself, and she gets out.”
I fell silent. Suit Guy was silent.
Then he said, “I like this story. Drama. Emotion. Hope. It’s a good story.”
He reached forward and picked up a can of creamed corn, studied the label for a second, and then placed it in his basket.
“You should write that story, Trolley Girl. I want to know what happens after she gets out. I want to meet this woman who stands up for herself when the odds are stacked against her. I think she’d be an amazing person.”
I watched him walk away and felt the world tip on its axis.
And then I went home and started writing.
