The Toymaker

The Toymaker was originally published in 2013. The publication where it was originally published no longer exists, and so I have posted it below for you to enjoy.

The Toymaker
By Cynthia (cina) Pelayo

“There are only a few hundred of us left, Elise. You must be careful next time!” The Toymaker said as he inspected the doll. Those in his craft were dwindling quickly, regretful of the terrible turn their work had begun taking.

Sitting at a large wooden table, the Toymaker reached for a spool of Buttercream 50625 colored thread. Holding Elise’s left arm tightly against her plush body he began to sew her back together. He did this delicately, stitch by stitch. “Well, of course they had to tear your arm off,” he said. “You should have released your hold when they entered the room.”

Hundreds of pairs of eyes watched him at work. “I heard that,” he grumbled. Raising Elise to his face he looked into her black button eyes. They were kind once, sweet and loving, he thought. What happened?

Elise looked like the doll every little girl wanted to have and adore. She was a lovely doll with a checkered pink and white dress. Royal gold colored yarn served as her long soft hair, and blush pink lips and cherry colored cheeks adorned her face. Yet, what every little girl was not expecting was to awaken one night with that perfect little doll holding a perfectly sharpened knife to her throat.

“You’ll need a new dress,” the Toymaker said as he noticed spots of dried blood on her hem.

A giggle slipped from Elise’s mouth followed by cheers and laughter from all of the others seated carefully on wooden shelves that lined the small, elegant toy shop.

The Toymaker rubbed his brow. There’s a can of kerosene in the back storage room, I could just do it now, he thought. The wood and the yarn and the button eyes and dresses, as well as me – ME – we could all just erupt in a blaze and melt into a heap of hate and guilted ash.

A bell chimed. Two adults in black wool coats dusted off flakes of fluffy snow from their shoulders.

“Mom, look!” The child rushed towards a doll in a perfectly pressed royal blue dress. “She’s the one!” The little girl squealed.

“How much for the doll?” The father asked.

The power of the dolls possessed the Toymaker. He shuffled over to the family, smiled and then said “Oh, her. She’s a very special doll. You promise to give her a good home?”

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