Two more hundred word stories. Enjoy!
The Voodoo Doll
I stick sharp pins into the soft flesh and will the figure’s body to suffer. Again and again, piercing the skin. Into the heart to cause sadness. Careful jabs and slices on the leg to force the figure to feel. To feel pain. To feel anything at all.
Damn you, feel something!
A carefully placed needle into a hand, into a finger. But the doll does not react.
Rows and rows of pins embedded now, sad soldiers marching into an unwinnable battle.
Now the doll bleeds! People will notice. They will rescue the doll.
They will stop me from cutting.
She feels his presence before she spins around and catches him leering. Buckled brown teeth and an uneven gait. A mind riddled with evil. “Spare a dollar,” he says. How long before he kidnaps a child? Before he tortures her? Before the courts fail to prove his guilt and release him to act again? She approaches with feigned kindness, and drives her expensive pen into his left eye, then his throat. The face of her remembered attacker transforms to that of an innocent homeless man. She hides the pen in her purse, shrugs, and resumes her walk to yoga class.
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