The red front door stood wide open, thrown back in the haste of departure. Scattered clothing littered the hallway floor, leaving a trail of odd socks and forgotten shirts from the staircase to the door. Plates lay abandoned on the kitchen table, glasses knocked on their side. Empty wardrobes and chests of drawers stood open in the bedrooms, silent witnesses to the nocturnal flight.

Amelia looked around in astonishment, wondering where they’d gone. She picked through the upturned furniture, straightening the crooked pictures on the walls. Collecting clothes tossed aside by careless owners, Amelia tried to erase the havoc wreaked throughout the house.

Rocking back onto her heels, she sighed deeply. What use was a doll’s house without dolls?


Icy Sedgwick  Icy Sedgwick's website was born in Newcastle upon Tyne in the early 1980s and now lives in London. By day, she works at a design consultancy in leafy west London. By night, she sits hunched over a laptop, writing random works of fiction while listening to bad 80s rock. She has been published on Bending Spoons, SilverBlade.net, Gloom Cupboard, and Fictionville.net.

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