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The Doll

By Magnus Kreisel All Rights Reserved ©


the doll

Threads lead to a body made of wood, standing on the theatre stage. A old man sits alone in the theatre. The doll’s eyes can seen peering from a diminutive face, each of different colours; red and white. Her hair is orange, a lock depends on the face, the mouth sickle-shaped, the nose small. The figure wears a red blue checkered shirt, a list peeping out of the breast pocket. The filaments are attached on his head, his hands and feet. A movement flashed through the little body, the threads tightening, the feet starting to move. 

The white eye is bright, the old man asks the doll, "What is the truth?" 

The doll replied, "That which feels the puppeteer to be true.” 

The strings twitch and the white eye closes. The threads twitch again and red rays illuminate the theater, the red eye will open and the old man asks the doll again, "What is truth?" 

The doll responds, "That what the puppeteer finds to be true, a lie." 

And so the man is going up on stage, considers the doll and asked, "Doll, what do you have on the list?”

The doll responds, “Old man, my desire is for freedom and a truth to be properly considered." A tear ran down the doll's face along. 
The old man pulled a knife from his pocket and cut through the threads that held the puppet. She slumped to the ground and said, "Old man, I can not run, I am lost." 

The man handed her his hand and said, "Take my hand, you will be free, you will find your truth.”

The doll seized Man's hand with his help she got up. For a moment she stood transfixed before pulling the piece of paper from her pocket. She showed the old man and began to speak; "Old man, what you set free will tell you the truth." 

Hand in hand they left the theater, on the stage, lay the severed threads. Free. True.

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