by Tracy Davidson

The bridal boutique mannequin missed her white dress. She had finally felt beautiful, full of fancy frills and flounces. It looked better on her than that frumpy human, whose frame tested the seams. Bad enough the humiliation of being publicly stripped. But then to be knocked over by grasping arms, left scratched and broken, unceremoniously dumped in the storeroom…

The mannequin crawled into the private changing room, where the woman still admired herself. Plastic hands cut off the scream. Dressmaker shears cut off other things.

The mannequin got her dress back, no longer white. She loved the added scarlet swirls.     

Tracy Davidson

Tracy Davidson lives in Warwickshire, England, and writes poetry and flash fiction. Her work has appeared in various publications and anthologies, including: Poet’s Market, Mslexia, Modern Haiku, The Binnacle, Black Hare Press, Shooter, Journey to Crone, The Great Gatsby Anthology, WAR, and In Protest: 150 Poems for Human Rights.