Today is my birthday, and it’s first one I’ll be spending without Grace. It’s a prospect I’m not sure how to feel about. It’s eight in the morning and I’m sitting in my underwear at the desk, scrolling through my e-mail inbox and deleting all the birthday spam I’ve received from various websites I’ve subscribed to, when my Skype client rings with an incoming call. It’s Libby.

  “Hey Bro,” she starts, “happy birthday!” It wasn’t my birthday in the states yet, not for another eight hours or so – so technically it wasn’t really my birthday – but it was a sentiment I appreciated all the same.

  “Hey, thanks Libby.”

  “You’re like, ancient now.”

  “Hey, thanks Libby,” I repeat, a little less enthusiastic.

  She continues to poke fun and we have a less than serious chat about the benefits of hitting the triple digits before moving the conversation on. She tells me about her college and the students she’s living with and asks about the store and if I’m planning to come back home any time soon. I tell her about the new doll and, more exciting to me, the new hire that was Dalton’s gift to me, but of course she suddenly wants to know everything about Mitsuki and see photographs and makes me promise I’ll upload them later. Girls around the world, I’ve come to realise, regardless of age or interests, all love dolls. It’s the only explanation.

  The more troubling fact is that it turns out most guys love them too.


~ by Joseph Blame on November 18, 2010.

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