My Dolly

Derek Nikitas, Eastern Kentucky University

Abstract

It was high time for me to fetch frozen Dolly from the butcher shop, but even in an ambulance the drive was rough, it being the Apocalypse out. This girl was too young to be called Dolly, just a teenager, but I named her Dolly because I liked the Golden Oldies, grassroots sheen of it. See, Dolly was dead, and along with the rest of her scrubbed memory, she lost what ever dull moniker her parents had imposed on her. It would be a new dawn for Dolly when I came to her rescue.