Barbie’s Broken Heart

by Sparks In Shadow

Photo by Ré Harris


Barbie threw parties as if I wasn’t there, receiving guests with throaty laughs and the perfect dress. The best jazz records she could remember played in the background while she served honeyed black tea with lemon, toasted sandwiches, then cake.

She’d invite one boyfriend. He’d fill the room like shades of forbidden color, and if there was intrigue or a battle for affection, it was understood that she was always loved. I watched all this and envied her.

Now her stillness seeps into my room sometimes, like an ache. I straighten her dress and brush her hair, before I go.