RECOMMENDED FOR MATURE READERS
It seemed reasonable to assume the other dolls had left for their homes, but they hadn’t. When I returned they were staring into a drum, nursing cigarettes, and studying the dance of flames over a half-filled bottle of whiskey. It had likely gone around the group for several rounds.
Akane was first to lift her head. “Chiyoko.” She and Yumiko were on their feet while Ginny stayed married to the fire.
The strands of silver had faded into black, and I’d replaced them with a blonde wig. Every muscle dragged as I rejoined the group, huddled in a jacket that had been shredded. Was this the cost of becoming the Platinum Doll?