Alice hunched over her little desk, the voodoo doll laid out before her. She'd not examined it closely before, not really. Her first look had been a little rushed, up in the attic. And since then, she'd been distracted every time she pulled it out. This was the first instance she really had a close look without emotions clouding her mind.
It really was an ugly little thing, with a patch of brown hair, what felt like real human hair, sewn into the top of the head, forming a stiff crest, rising to sag to one side. The button eyes were the prettiest part, one shiny, the other run through with marbling. Alice lifted the little dress, looked at the tiny, neat stitches, all done by hand, but almost as precise as a sewing machine.
Interesting. And made Alice wonder again about the maker, but to
