With Her

The stormy weather returned and with the booming thunder and splattered rain she appeared. Her entrance was always grand but it never paled her. She arrived at his door in a red petticoat and white leather gloves and bathed in an invisible glory and seductive presence that only a women could wear. She wore it well. She said she just came by for a night or two though her monstrous suitcase said otherwise. She only smirked when he asked about it and said she had the habit of over-packing. He knew you couldn’t over-pack a weeks worth of clothes.

They would have tea together in the yard. Large blankets laid across the short spring grass that just sprung up to say ‘hello’. Tiny teacups with Gypsum, and  Earl Grey, Green for the afternoon, and Ginger when the sun just rose, clinked and chimed with the conversation and mirrored their laughter. She had an infectious laugh, high and unabashed he could hear it from the other room. He ‘let’ her stay for a while, more then the few weeks for which she had packed so eventually she had to go and buy some new ones. He paid for them all of course after her halfhearted attempts to stop him. They both knew she had to money and she would look for a job soon enough.

She found one at the dentist office as a receptionist. She was always good with people and even managed to calm one boy down who was furiously crying over a cavity yet to be filled. She charmed everyone with her imperfect smile; slightly gap-toothed but all still pearly white. Her co-workers loved her and he would go to pick her up to the dentist asking if she could stay another hour or two ‘you see there’s these two kids that need fillings and’.

She was a doll. His doll. Everyone’s doll. And she was dead. 


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