The Lost Girl

I ignored him, and placed the doll on the window sill. He was watching it, rather than me, as I stepped back to the bath and knelt down besides it. His head turned to me suddenly, still waiting for an answer.


“I want answers, Sidney”

“Answers about what?”

“About her.”

The muscles around his mouth twitched, his tongue stroking empty words.  He spoke carefully, each letter and syllable carefully enunciated.

About me

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. :)