Barbie threw parties as if I wasn't there, receiving guests with throaty laughs and the perfect dress. The best jazz records she could remember played in the background while she served honeyed black tea with lemon, toasted sandwiches, then cake.
She'd invite one boyfriend. He'd fill the room like muscled shades of forbidden color, and if there was intrigue or a battle for affection, it was understood that she was always loved. I watched all this and envied her.
Now, at times, her stillness seeps into my room, like an ache. I straighten her dress and brush her hair, before I go.
Created: Mar 09, 2014SparksInShadow Document Media