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| Sunrise In New York: | |||||||||||||||||||
| Letters From A Satanic Angel | |||||||||||||||||||
| Suzanne M. Bendel is listed in stable condition in the women's ward of New York Psychiatric | |||||||||||||||||||
| Hospital. She is breathing normally but somewhat laboriously through six recently fractured ribs. | |||||||||||||||||||
| However, Suzanne or Suzy is elsewhere it would seem, at least, to her concerned attendants; she | |||||||||||||||||||
| has not awoken for nearly seven days. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Suzy isn't spending her free time wondering why things happened the way they did, or why they | |||||||||||||||||||
| happened at all. When her whole life collapsed once again into painful blackness and sleep, her | |||||||||||||||||||
| "I" fractured more than her ribs and now she is a wonderful array of snowflakes melting on a | |||||||||||||||||||
| street lamp on 34th street or upon the busy entrance to the Metropolitan Theatre. Except "where" | |||||||||||||||||||
| is not really of any concern to Suzy because the story is always the same, only the characters | |||||||||||||||||||
| change and sometimes the scenery falls apart to reveal a star or two breaking through the thick | |||||||||||||||||||
| clouds of unconsciousness. If she had any awareness to spare, she might ponder the irony of | |||||||||||||||||||
| finding greater sheer ecstasy in these dying moments of her life than she ever did turning a trick | |||||||||||||||||||
| and finding "the bottom of the ocean" as she called it, that warm dreaminess that always seemed | |||||||||||||||||||
| to envelop her when she was beyond the grace of any God she ever knew. | |||||||||||||||||||
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