The Dollhouse

Janey shoved her newest doll into the small case provided to her at the residence. She owned so many that the ruffle-lined limbs hung over the shelves, giving the appearance of drunk whores balanced precariously on somebody’s balcony.

She hated dolls. Always had. Couldn’t decide if her mother thought she loved them, or presented them as some sick sort of joke–a reminder to her disfigured daughter of the beauty she could never attain.

But they were gifts from her mother, nonetheless.

Janey kept them displayed near her tiny shower–the dust mingling with the smell of mildew and lavender.

[WORD COUNT: 100]

closet-shower-2
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Not my first time with the Friday Fictioneers, but my first time with this blog. Thank you, Rochelle, for the prompt, and the fun opportunity to tell a story in 100 words!

15 thoughts on “The Dollhouse

  1. Interesting! I’m drawn in by all the hints about this girl’s sad life. Love the description of the dolls like drunken whores — I could totally picture those ruffly dresses in disarray, the legs all up in the air.

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  2. Perhaps , Janey needs more love and and compassion and acceptance by her family or a caring friend . I see that as the only way out for her deep-seated frustration and feeling of inadequacy.
    Nicely,written , Sarah .

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  3. Dear Sarah,

    I’m so pleased to see you back! I was disappointed when you dropped off the grid. Just as I recall, your writing takes aim and fires on all cylinders. Well done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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  4. Such a poignant scene. A girl more or less abandoned with mom showing up now and then with gifts ahe doesn’t want. You’ve made us really feel with her.
    Yet she keeps the gift. We all have gifts like that. 😙

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