I remember my synthetic baby girl. Like me, a smiling-sad little thing. My childhood doll was a plump thermoplastic form our dad had brought home one unusual night. Unusual because he wasn’t in the habit of walking through the door holding little baby dolls in his big hands. He was thrilled I wanted a doll. My first. My only. My younger sister’s flaxen-haired, bow-lipped dollies had never bothered to kiss away my tears. The brown-haired baby doll with the pixie cut was beautiful to me. My full-bellied, coffee-eyed friend. I never gave her a name. Then I gave her away.
Mimi Grouse
26/11/2021 04:17:53 pm
A sweet, sad tale. Well done.
Sue Clayton
28/11/2021 06:37:35 am
Agree with Mimi. Sad.
Debra S Levy
3/12/2021 02:37:33 am
Love this flash! The writer says so much in 100 words -- she gives us a complete world, with fully-realized characters, and an implied story -- it's all there! Yes, the ending is sad ... but so true to life, so perfect. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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