Doll Woman

He felt ashamed. When he was little, his sister used to have a doll with button eyes. He spilled cranberry juice all over that doll and it stained its pretty white stitching and its hair made of yarn. That’s what the woman at his feet looked like now. It embarrassed him to remember that doll and how he was scolded that day. He cleaned his knife with soap and water before leaving her apartment.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Flash Fiction, Session XII

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s