Читать книгу The Asylum For Fairy-Tale Creatures - Sebastian Gregory - Страница 11

Thumbeana

There was a doll-maker who had dedicated herself to making dolls for all children everywhere. And, oh, what dolls they were masterpieces of beauty. The children and their parents came on long journeys from far and wide just to visit The Doll House (so was named the shop). It seemed, however, that her dedication had come with a price. Now when the doll-maker looked into the mirror, an old grey woman returned her gaze where youth had once been. She was content with the happiness she had brought others, but also sorrowful for the happiness she had denied herself. Suitors had been and gone and could never draw the doll-maker’s attention from her work. She had once longed for a child of her own, yet time had taken away that option. This did not stop her, however—the doll-maker dreamt of whispers that filled the air and the doll-maker’s

Now when the children came to the doll shop they found the shutters firmly closed and the door bolted. Inside the shop the dolls sat on shelves and hung from the rafters. If the dolls, half-finished and otherwise, could have formed expressions they would have looked very, very worried.. Behind a red velvet curtain where the pieces dolls stayed, the doll-maker toiled under the watchful eye of the jars of eyes. Around her hunched figure as she worked, in a dusty darkness lit by a small candle, were the arms and legs and torsos of dolls. Bald heads with eyeless sockets swayed in the shadow of the candle. For seven days and seven nights she worked until her fingers bled. Occasionally there were knocks on the door, but in her obsession the doll-maker heard none.