Ysonde stared deeply into her doll's deep, blue, movable eyes and frowned. "What will I call you?" she asked the beautifully dressed, porcelain child. It was Christmas night, long after she should have been asleep in her antique, rope bed. However, she couldn't stop thinking about names.
It seemed wrong that her new best friend didn't have a moniker.
Via the lacy-curtained window, the moon's dull light slashed through the darkness in her bedroom. She appreciated being able to see the outline of her three-drawer bureau next to the door; in a way she'd never known what light really was until her grandparents had rescued her from a bad place. From her own mother.
She thought of her grandmother's tender smiles, her gentle touches and how she never turned away any hug from her granddaughter.
Grandmother. Ysonde's thoughts veered slightly. Grandfather called Grandmother 'Archange'.
Ysonde smiled at her doll. "I think your name is Archange, too." She nodded, affirming her decision. "Arc for short."
Content, now that she'd made such an important decision, Ysonde placed Arc on the pillow beside her, pulled the covers up under their chins and promptly fell asleep.
This story about Ysonde and her doll, Arc, are not available anywhere else but on this blog. However, Ysonde first appears in Orchids for Roses and is featured in the soon-to-released novella, Bouquets and Motorbikes.
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Orchids-for-Roses/book-9s_M8U0iUUCIr617h_3DCg/page1.html?s=E_W6J9KQokyibTRKF3bh3A&r=3
http://www.amazon.com/Orchids-for-Roses-ebook/dp/B007B4HN44/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1338700180&sr=8-8
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