DG

By: LDP

The brown corrugated cardboard box arrived intact
Or so it seemed
Until he threw it on the porch
The smashing sound of shattered glass was startling
If it were breakable
Shouldn’t the box be marked fragile?
Examining the box
He saw it was free of warnings
Opening the box it was difficult to surmise
What had broken
The doll, meant to be a gift
Still exquisitely beautiful
Hair, strawberry blonde, soft and silky
Skin, porcelain
Gazing at its lovely face he watched the eyes roll
The color, still the vibrant green he was drawn to in the catalogue
Obviously, now lacking the stability
They were meant to maintain
He shook the doll gently
A rattling sound…
It is unfortunate, he thought
It wasn’t as though it was something he could repair
And he fancied himself quite good at fixing things
Taking a big black Sharpie
Marking a large DG on the outside of the box
He laid the box outside the front door
For the messenger’s return trip
No one, he thought,
Should have to keep damaged goods
But in the box she screamed,
“You broke me!
You wanted me and you broke me!
You were careless, cavalier,
You blame others for not warning you that I could break,
But it was you who tossed me casually aside,
Only to pick me up later thinking I might still be whole
Can you not see your part in any of this?”
Alas she was only a doll…
And her silence
A trait he found most appealing when ordering her
Was still intact.