Dollhouse

A metaphor for recent years.

Dollhouse

By Nina Redding

12/31/2018

In my secrecy, there is a dollhouse.

The walls are just more windows.

The door is inexistent.

People inside are microscopic.

Bijou.

So it’s staggering to know in the corner there’s a tiny mouse.

Tiny Mouse is surrounded by microscopic people that keep trying to kill her.

The people set traps.

People put out delicious lies just to snap Tiny Mouse’s neck.

She always approached with caution, resisting, her stomach concaved.

This last time, a treat so succulent, it could not be void.

An invitation to be happy.

Forever.

Tiny Mouse moves forward slowly.

Snatches the opportunity.  

Tiny Mouse makes a clean escape into her hollow.

The happiness fills the air in the crater.

Tiny Mouse dies.

The poison was in the wound you see.

Happiness stripped from one, in the form of deluded candies and disillusionment

In my secrecy, there is a dollhouse.

The walls are just more windows.

The door is inexistent.

There is one way in.

Just break everything.

Author's Note

Comments? Constructive Criticism welcome

Reviews

[Jade]

This is so good but yet sad too, nicely written and expressed