Monday, August 20, 2018

Class

My classmates are Barbie dolls. American Girl dolls, the originals. Perfect shiny blonde hair. Hair that curls, that stays in French braids. Mine is flat or kinked. My eyelashes don't curl. My face is all wrong. I ask my mom to pack me another sandwich. I hate sandwiches, but my food is too offensive and I need to stick out as little as possible.

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