The Mannequin VII

 The Mannequin The Mannequin VII by Maria Fokas

“You will never know what freedom is,” he said, as he switched off the lights. I think I felt the cold that night.

And then I noticed that little girl, who keeps coming round with her mother; holding an ice cream cone in her hand.

The little girl smiled, and pushed her mother’s hand away.

Her ice cream dripped on her white shoelace.

Her mother said, “No.”

She said, “I don’t care.”

I don’t care…Is that what will set me free?

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