Porcelain Doll Meaning Novels & Stories

" I tried to grab it, but he shoved me back hard, and I tumbled to the floor once more. "No excuses!" Nash's fury was boiling over as he jabbed a finger at the doll. "Ever since your sister came out of your room, she's been covered in rashes and can barely breathe. The doctor says it's an acrylic allergy. What else could it be, if not this junky toy?" He lifted his arm. "Please, no!" Crash! The porcelain doll lay in pieces before me. "Mom… Mom!" I crouched and shakily tried to gather the broken fragments. Alas, no matter how gently I tried, the doll was beyond repair.

“This one is new My Lady. It’s hand painted and perfectly shaped.” Inside the box was a blue velvet cushion, and a… what is that? It’s definitely porcelain, and beautifully painted with flowers, but what is it for? “Josephine, this is a dildo. It is the same shape of a man’s member.” I looked at it more closely, she was right. It was cylindrical with a rounded bulb at the top. “Yes, I see it.” I replied. “I’d like to buy one for you, for your next bath.” Elodie mocked.

*Ana* “Oh…“ I barely manage to utter as I feel myself freeze on the spot. I only watch the maid continue to pull the doll out. Mykhol takes it from her to push into my free arm. I numbly feel the doll's long red wavy hair cascading over my arm. What is this? Unable to speak, I can only look back at the teen. My eyes dart around him as if to see some answer. But he doesn’t help at all. He’s just standing there grinning at me. What...this… My mind is trying to process the next word and failing. Finally, though, the teen doesn’t seem bothered by my silence, instead, he seems to take the opportunity to speak. I feel a rush of relief as he lets go of my hand- which I instantly pull back toward me

15 Momma’s told me once or twice—and sometimes I remember—about the doll I had when I was really little. Samelsa. A name I made up myself. Mom says I wouldn’t stand for it when anyone dared mishear me and try to call her ‘Sam’. “Sam is a girl-name for hookers and strippers. Maybe waitresses,” she says. “I think you knew that, too. Even then. If people dared call your doll ‘Sam’ you’d give them the blackest evil eye. That look on your face! It was like a witchy old woman who’d just caught her neighbor’s dog peeing on her front porch.”

Who would have thought that, as soon as I opened A****n, all I saw were these kinds of dolls. Henry was still asking, "Boss, when did you become interested in this kind of toy? I recommend online shopping, even though it's pirated, but it's cheap." "You didn't know that some kids nowadays, really liked to have dolls, it cost a lot of money!" Some of them cost over a hundred thousand. Amelia glanced roughly at the photos he provided and said, "Just look for this one in my hand." She wanted to make sure that this puppet would no longer cause trouble.

He didn't think much about it, as long as she liked him. Glancing at the clay doll, Christiano could not believe his ears. He asked uncertainly, "Are you sure you want this?" "Well, don't you think the baby is very cute?" "Is it cute?" Why didn't he feel it at all? However, as long as Adeline liked it! The host looked down and said, "This doll is an amulet from ancient times. It has a long history. The starting price is 120,000!" Christiano raised his card. "One hundred and fifty thousand!"

he said. The word slipped out on its own, soft at first, almost a breath. He tasted it again, rolling it across his tongue like something rare and private. Doll. Not Luna. Not the mute girl he had stolen from her wedding day. Just Doll. Small, fragile, something made to be kept exactly where he placed it. Something that couldn’t run unless he allowed it. His Doll.

Mi muñeca de porcelana… De mí, nunca te alejarás. (My porcelain doll… From me, you will never get away.)

The interior of the porcelain gallery store was decorated artistically. On the shelves inside, many porcelain wares looked like art exhibits. Every porcelain set had an introduction to English along with the language of the country it came from. Maximo actually wanted me to come here to buy a bowl for me to eat. Is he gone crazy? Or I don't understand the principle of this world and how it works anymore? Because, This place is clearly a work of art, alright? I would rather keep the pieces in the showcase than eat in them on the daily basis!

I just stared at him. "How did she die?" No answer. "What happened to her?" Nothing. "Am I just a replacement for Camilla?" He didn't speak, He didn't move, He just stared out the window like I wasn't there. I turned away. I looked at my own reflection in the glass, My face was pale, My hands were shaking. What the fuck? I had signed a contract to be some man's Doll. I had let him touch me in a red room. I had worn a dead woman's name at a family dinner.