Flash Fiction: Barbie
©Max Mikulecky
We wake and reach out with our eyes closed, unexpecting the other to have remained. I’d rather feel you’ve gone than see it. I dreamt you left me as I enter this day wrapped in a thin glaze of perspiration, less sweet than what I’ll dip in coffee once I know you’re here. I dreamt you sank into a large deep lake, your plastic body deflating and crumpling. Your mouth open but no sound coming out. We wake to find each other with our breath held tight, like how I held you as I fell asleep. Never leave me, Barbie. I’ll never watch you walk away.
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