Nesting Doll

 

Truda was asleep and her mother was watching her. It was a misty dawn the following day.

Meredith dis-robed and in a trance slowly turned. She went naked through the cottage to the door and into the yard. She could hear a baby crying, crying near the woods.

As she crossed the fields, the mist parted for her, and the crying lead her to a spot in the ground. She fell to her knees and started digging. The closer she got to it, the crying intensified, and then there it was, the black egg. It was still warm, hard as stone.

She rubbed it against her cheek, and cooed, “ My little one, it will be all right. Mother will take you home. “

A weight exploded through her head, blinding her, and she felt it again, convulsing now, the egg cracking, spilling blood onto the soil, to mix with her own.





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)