Thousands of plastic angels stacked along the sehlves up to the ceiling. Dolls. All staring forwards with empty, glass eyes. The room is cold like their eyes.

I look outside and see a girl. her blonde ringlets, bright, red lips and pale, delicate skin. The perfect model. My princess.

I feel a surge of excitement as she turns to look. I invite her upstairs. "Come and see what i have to play with."

I remember my first doll, dressed immaculately in a bridal dress...I would be her husband. I wish for her love again. She was so sweet...so childlike.

I slowly close the curtains and step back to my toys.

 

© Rebecca Crossan 2004