Good Girl Days

The doll’s eyes judge me. Whenever I see a customer out – I refer to them as gentlemen callers but it’s a euphemism, most aren’t at all gentle – it shakes its head in disapproval. It mimics the expression on Grandpa’s face when he came to pick me up from the A&E and found me wearing provocative nothing and slutty make-up.

He gave me the doll for being such a good girl while Mum was dying of cancer. I was too old for it even then.

I should bin it. But I need a reminder of my good girl days.


9 thoughts on “Good Girl Days

  1. Love this. It conveys the layers of complexity that can exist beneath the overly simple labels we place on people places and things, to get us through a typical “information overload” day.


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