• H. M. L. Swann

Day 60: Dolls


300 Days of Writing

Day 60 Dolls:

In the nest there was a girl, with eyelids that blinked when her head moved and a complexion that never blemished. She was fragile but firm. She was angelic yet terrifying. She was everything he ever wanted.


The boy picked her up, pulled her from the depths of the trunk full of loose limbs and spare heads. He cradled her in his arms. He watched her blink on his command, he controlled her movements, like a puppet but less obvious, more subtle, more graceful.


“Grace,” he whispered, brushing her hair with his fingers. The brown curls were snarled together and snagged between his fingers. With care, the boy was loosening the knots, strand by strand, when his father ripped Grace from his arms.


“What is this shite?”


“Nothing!” the boy said, his voice cracking. He flushed with embarrassment. “I found it is all.”


“Boys don’t play with dolls.”


His father tossed grace back into the crate and pushed his son out the door.


Сайхан Бичээрэй!


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