Marionette

She was in the lobby with a bunch of other kids just inside the door as I walked in. I met her face to face. She was very young. I stood looking at her face, eye to eye, as she was as tall as I am. She had the face of a doll. Innocent, still, unblemished. She smelled like tangerines. I felt a little uneasy and I heard myself take a deep breath when I asked her what was going on. No. I didn't want to touch her, but I wanted to capture her image and my memory of her in some way. My mouth was dry. My face flushed. I would ask her to tie ribbons loosely to her wrists and ankles and play the part of a marionette. She would have to practice some of the moves, but no costume or makeup would add to the wonder.