After her reign, she married a wealthy man who built houses for the rich with his tools. Later he built Queeny, a cottage of stone complete with a balcony and a koi pond for her viewing pleasure.
Her life was as she wished until her baby was born and though baby Iris was beautiful with emerald green eyes and a head full of unruly curls, something was wrong. The child pitched violet temper tantrums and threw her toys. She didn’t like dolls or teddy bears. Instead, she curled up with the lizards, black ants, and bugs in the grass and spoke to them loudly as if they were friends, Gods.
Later when she was a teen, Iris’s father died suddenly of a heart attack. Still, Iris found her true escape in the yard and spoke to all the lizards, those wild insects in the woods sitting in her black make-up, fish nets, and gold shoes.
At last, Queeny wailed and wailed in deep despair until the sky finally opened up with harsh rain, as the lightning covered the town and the smack of the thunder was all anyone could hear.
Natures cry for the unhinged.