The Doll House
Part One-Charlie.
“Yeah, I know a shop whose looking for somebody like you, Charlie,” My friend Eliza started. It was a warm autumn afternoon, and I was sitting around lazing, trying to forget my worries. I’d just told her exactly what had been said to me when I was fired from my dream job, that I ‘wasn’t what they had hoped for’. I was crushed, poor and hungry. That and I had no place to live, and I was sick of living in a tiny room at Lizas. That and all the loud sex her and her fiancé were having. Every night. “She owns that shop on the side of the high street, the one with the house above it. She’s actually been looking for a tenant for months...mind you, that because she’s a bit…weird.”
“Weird? Well…”
“Look, you’re desperate.”
“I guess so…”
“No, you are.” So, I was getting kicked out. So much for 5 years of friendship then. If I was more of a girl, I would probably have cried.
The next day I followed the directions Liza had given me, scribbled on a scrap of paper with the name Lucinda Grey written underneath it. I stopped and looked upward, I had arrived. I looked up at the title of the building; It read “The Doll House.”
The door was covered in signs, the biggest saying ‘No, we are NOT a brothel.” And underneath a dusty looking ‘Open’ sign.
I opened the door precariously, wondering what to expect.
“Weird? Well…”
“Look, you’re desperate.”
“I guess so…”
“No, you are.” So, I was getting kicked out. So much for 5 years of friendship then. If I was more of a girl, I would probably have cried.
The next day I followed the directions Liza had given me, scribbled on a scrap of paper with the name Lucinda Grey written underneath it. I stopped and looked upward, I had arrived. I looked up at the title of the building; It read “The Doll House.”
The door was covered in signs, the biggest saying ‘No, we are NOT a brothel.” And underneath a dusty looking ‘Open’ sign.
I opened the door precariously, wondering what to expect.