Tilda

As much as she repelled Rich she fascinated me. A toy girl with an impossibly skinny body and disproportionately large head. Conversations ended in tantrums or dramatic exits. After she left a room, you could peel her nervous energy off the wall, she was that crazy-fragile. Like a canary or Judy Garland. Her hair was ammonite and she had so much of it that if she were a doll, only a cellophane wrapper around her head could have fit her into the box. Silently perfect until bought by someone who’d scrawl his name in ballpoint across her smooth plastic forehead.