Porcelain

I wrote this originally as a poem, but my poetry is poor. I decided to turn it into a story. I couldn't get the picture of the room out of my head. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Love you my people!

            A low, orange glow of sunshine was all that was left of the day as it filtered into a house. The incoming shadows fell on the furniture-filled room. A light film of dust covered the unmoved objects scattered about. The only movement in the room came from the autumn breeze seeping through the shattered window. Its curtains were spread across the room leaving the bent curtain rod naked. The breeze brought dozens of leaves and heaps of pine straw inside. They covered the floor completely. It looked like a vacant wilderness. The tiny room had an odor that reminded me of adventures in the woods. A light scent of cheap perfume mixed with the moist leaves. In the corner was a small hand-made doll house that succumbed to decay. Now the once treasured gift was by itself in that lonely corner. My eyes moved to the left of the secluded doll house until I saw a small and perfectly made bad. Its sheets were faded pink and covered in pine straw. They were once bright as was the rest of the room.

            Still something else caught my wandering eye. I saw an antique dresser across from me. Its paint was chipped and its drawers had either missing or broken handles. Fragile trinkets were littered atop the vanilla-colored dresser. A small glass bottle lay opened. It had a shiny clear liquid still inside. It must have been the reason for the sweet scent. The main feature among the dazzling things was a beautiful porcelain doll. She had a pale and hard exterior and seemed to be without worries. Her rosy cheeks and painted lips were wonderfully crafted. Every contour of her face was etched with care, and her eyes were as bright as fire. Though I could not understand why I felt uncomfortable while looking at her. Those eyes of hers taunted me. I marveled at her small hands, and I reached for them but my body couldn’t follow my demands. I shed a tear and to my dismay, so did the doll. There—across from me was the outline of a mirror on the wall.

 

A Common Mistake

I was in a computer lab one day writing a story. As I printed my story, I found another story that someone forgot. I asked around to see if I could find the author. No one claimed it. I read it and thought that it was brilliant work. I still haven't found the author, but I still want to share the story. I did not write this story. Please enjoy it. I hope you are as stunned as I was when I read it. Tell me what you think in the comments!

“John, what was in that glass you just gave me?” Susan asked in a soft voice after drinking a long sip. She looked into John’s eyes as she cried weakly and tried to pick up the glass again with a trembling hand.

John stared blankly at Susan as he answered her. “Arsenic, Ma’am.”

“Arsenic! I asked you to bring me absinthe.” Susan stood as she held onto the chair in front of her and looked as if she could fall over any moment.

“I thought you said arsenic. I beg your pardon, Ma’am. It’s a common mistake. They sound too much alike.”

“Do you realize what you’ve done, you clumsy fool? I’m dying.” She crumpled to the floor.

“I am extremely sorry, Ma’am.” John held his hands out as though it was a minor error anyone might make.

Susan crawled to the door in a daze as she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and started to dial 911. John suddenly realized what she was about to do and panicked. Susan stumbled, and John rushed to her and grabbed the cell phone from her hand and threw it out the window. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, carefully wiped all the furniture and glassware of finger prints, and ran out the door in a rush.

In the hallway, he met a man he had never seen before. He shouted to him as he grabbed him by the collar, “HELP! There’s a girl in there who is trying to poison herself. She threw her cell phone out the window. Do you have a phone? We must call the doctor.”