The ABC’s Game – E is for Elusive

“dollhouse_12” by ActionFigure

This is old, nearly five years old. How time flies.

E is for Elusive, which is what my tiny man becomes when I call him to me because it’s time to get to work. Sometimes I need him to sharpen my drawing pencils with his tiny whittling knife, others it is my shoes that need polishing or light repair. Whatever the case, he flees and disappears into the dollhouse, whence he peers out at me through a tiny pane, waiting for discovery while I begin to arch my brow in annoyance. Where is he!?

I voice my displeasure to the vast emptiness of my room, the vellus on my neck standing on end as I suddenly feel a tiny pair of eyes on me. I smile secretly, now sure of his location, without needing to look. I trick him, swerving my head to the right (and away from where his dollhouse sits in a prominent location), pointedly tilting it towards the floor as though I’m looking for him, pretending I’m scanning every inch of that side of the room for his scurrying body. I’m not; I know where he is.

I swivel in place, still away from the dollhouse, my office chair creaking exaggeratedly at his ears, a warning symphony that lets him know his time is running out… that soon I will meet his eyes with mine, that I will stand away from that monument of metal and fabric, forcing those diminutive slits up the length of me, and that I will unleash my feet in his direction, shrinking the distance between us, giving him a second or two to come to grips with facing MINE.

2 thoughts on “The ABC’s Game – E is for Elusive

Add yours

  1. And, to paraphrase Sir Arthur, “the game is a Foot…”

    (Yes, I am, in case You were wondering.)

    Marvellous stuff, as always!

    Gotta go get my shrink on…



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: