The doll lays motionless on the floor

She’s staring at the window, living in her head.

Creating worlds involving the birds and the clouds that she sees.

Limp, she lets the excitement of the world waves through her

Unmoved, unaffected. She lays motionless.

One day, though, she feels someone tugging at the sleeve of her dress.

The action is insistent, she cannot ignore it.

She moves her head to look at the perpetrator.

He says: “I have something for you that you’re gonna love.

Follow me, I’ll show you.”

The toes of the doll flicker

Her body turns around

The energy of motion flashes through her.

Following him, she experiences a divine smell of freshly baked bread.

And he shows her a perfect loaf of bread

Golden

Crispy

Odorous

“Take a bite”, he says

And so she does.

She is overpowered by the savour of the good.

It’s still warm.

It’s crispy and soft all at once

She closes her eyes and let the waves of ecstasy go through her.

“I will come back”, he says, “I will bake for you twice a week.”

So the doll goes back to her corner of the room.

And she stares at the window.

Seeing loafs of bread all over.

For months, he doesn’t disappoint.

She eats bread twice a week.

Infusing her body with golden light.

But Life doesn’t like dolls to be alive.

Dolls are supposed to stay limp in the corner of a bedroom.

“Sorry, Doll”, he says

“I won’t have freshly baked loaves of bread to offer you next Tuesday.

I will have a full loaf on Friday though.”

The light in the doll raged

The energy stabbed to the heart with the dagger of life screeched in agony.

But the doll quieted them, and patiently waited for Friday.

On Friday, the bread was there.

Pure and blissful as always.

Nourishing and heavenly.

Back to her room, the doll, inflated by the bread, digested the light.

Waiting for the next delivery day.

But Life was not satisfied.

Dolls are objects that should not taste the light.

“Sorry, Doll”, he says

“I won’t have freshly baked loaves of bread to offer you anymore.

I will have a few crumbs now and then.”

Agony hit the doll.

How could she live with crumbs when she knew loaves existed?

But she didn’t have a choice.

So, she took a crumb, and closed her eyes.

And she let the savour flush through her.

The aftertaste was bitter.

She discovered uncertainty.

Looking by the window, she wondered

Will I get a loaf, or a crumb, or nothing?

And she felt the claws of darkness pierce her body

Needles in her eyes, and her ears and her heart.

She felt the pain of voodoo dolls.

She lived with crumbs and needles for weeks, for an eternity.

Then, she started to extract each needle,

Slowly, painfully, one by one.

Each needle being removed took with it a little bit of the light.

Finally, she put her hand on the last needle.

She felt her beating heart panic, but she kept pulling on it.

The needle was extracted, and the light and the life streamed out of the doll.

Letting her limp, in the corner of the room,

Looking by the window, at the ever-changing shapes of the clouds.

Manipulation & Hurt