This combined with her heels and makeup was all she had on now looking out of the train window. As she thought about this process again of preparing s...e moved awkwardly very aware of the heat and damp between her thighs, and also very aware that the tops of the hold ups were so nearly showing under the coat. Her final act of self submission in the build up was her decision to not bring her phone or purse, and just enough money for the ticket one way to London. There was only one way to go.The. She could remember the kiln fires thatforged her face into the stone it now was. In her soul she heard thesymphony of the silkworms that wove her dress. The percussion of thesheep that yielded the fine wool that was her hair. She even knew hername.She was Annabelle's doll. Annabelle Andrews so loved her doll, that shegave it a soul. When Annabelle grew to old for dolls and had a family ofher own, she passed the doll, her most prized possession to that what sheloved best. Annabelle's. More

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