Tiny Tale #12

The wall dyed pink, room filled with an assortment of furry toys,

A little girl of about 9, sat on a plush bed queen sized,

She braided the golden locks of a doll, Humming a sweet song,

She let a blood curling scream escape,
Just as a thundering bolt hit her again,

The walls changed to yellowing plaster, the room occupied by lab coat personnel,

The bed steel cold, where lie a woman greying old,

The doll in her hands with its locks deranged,

She gasped and held her breath,
As she heard a shadow above her head say “CLEAR” again.


Pranav Drolia


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s