To place side by side (as to compare or contrast)
She folded the doll into my hands. Dry blond plasticky hair spilled down my knuckles. “For dreams and stories,” she said.
She had barely been gone a week before he saw the doll and took it from my [grip]. “For little girls,” he said.
The doll went to my cousin Jeneta. I cried [forever], almost as long as when she’d left. He was so worried about the implications, and I was too young to explain that my emotions were more complex than that. (Or so I believed). It was texture and touch that made me want the doll, how the plasticky hair was so different to my slippery sweaty skin. How her big spongey eyes, with their big purple lids, defied my wet gaze. I could hold her and be transported into a dry, smooth, exaggerated world that had none of the damp, doughy, odorous signals of the bodies of this world.
For dreams and stories, she’d said. The last time I saw her, she had looked just so, like the smooth exaggerated doll. I knew such transformations were a one-way trip but oh how I missed its reminders.
7/100 of #The100DayProject. One of the frequent notes I get on drafts is to be more clear–to state what doesn’t need to be unstated. It would apply to this draft too.