It was snowing outside, and the frost clung stubbornly, around the frames of windows. Otto's tears were now probably just as cold as the temperature. Papa had found all of Otto's other dolls - even his very-bestest-friend, Karl. He would really miss their porcelain smiles and the conversations they had held together. Ann would be happy to wear more pretty dresses, like Sophie's, and Karl might just get along with Maria's other Friend, Erik. Yvonne would just be glad to be back with Maria again.
Maria's mama greeted Otto with a benevolent smile.
"Maria! Otto's here!".
Maria came down from the stairs.
"Oh, did you bring your dolls over? Let me got get mine-"
"No". Otto promised himself, that he would not cry, and be a good boy, like Papa had told him to. "Papa said you can have these". Otto held out the cardboard box he was carrying. "Go on, take it.". Maria took it.
"But they're yours. Won't you play dolls with me anymore?" Maria stared, wide-eyed.
"Anne was my sister's, and the other two were yours anyway. You can keep them. Just take good care of them.", Otto wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve.
"Oh, don't cry, Otto."
"I'm not crying!", Otto whisper-yelled defiantly.
And so Otto left his friends in the hands of Maria, knowing that from tonight onwards, he would be all alone in his room, with none of his Friends.
YOU ARE READING
Hands on the Clock
Short StoryOtto is a young German child who likes dolls. But dolls are for girls. And Otto is a boy who's best friends are Karl, Ann and Yvonne. Karl is a doll. Ann is a doll. Yvonne is a doll. And only Maria is not.
