I tossed the doll into a box.
“You can’t do this!”
Ah, Emilia, my childhood friend. “I’m not a little girl. They’re going.”
“Leave them here for me!” She stood there in her flowered dress, glaring.
“Time for the dolls, and you, to go. I’m leaving for college. Find a new friend.”
She cried while reaching for the doll, and it slipped through her fingers. Large tears rolled down her cherub cheeks. “I don’t want to leave!”
“Whatever. Do what you want.”
Emilia left without a sound. I sighed.
She would never move beyond the dolls.
Little girl ghosts never age.
Superb piece of writing, with a kicker of a last line. Kudos.
Wow. I read it three times! Great piece.
Nice turn at the end. Very well done!
Good story
This is superb – thank you!
Superbly written. I love how the title is reflected in the story; a tale of a lost and lonely child whose story in life, we can only imagine. The dialogue serves the story well.
It seemed so cruel until the last line when it turned out the pain was in the pain-giver.