The Good Doll
Dainty was the correct term despite the word being one I’d yet to learn.
I was five and small, my dress below the ankles was dragged along the hall.
The window wept sunlight warming my hair.
I was small but she was dainty.
Scarlet I called her because I knew no other.
We played by ourselves and played with our mother.
© G.P Williamson 2017