The Doll of Esme

‘Once upon a time’ are words that were repeated each night that acted like a savoring

melody for Esme. Smooth notes of a vibrating string on of viola led her to sleep like a

mother’s lullaby. And a gentle hand would lightly push her hair aside of her forehead, was

followed by a kind goodnight kiss. Her face was pale as a doll, hair as sweet as

blackberries, and a fingers that were slightly gripped around by index finger. All I could do

was watch her and smile at her adorable sleeping face, loving her and guarding her with all

my might. With my freehand, I dimmed the light, waiting for a new tomorrow.

But Esme is no longer there.