She was a pretty little thing ... blond curls and big blue eyes, her body design seemed to be inspired by the early 50s, when women were still women with a female body and those curves men really adore. Her mouth looked like fresh strawberries, sweet, red and ready to get kissed. No, she wasn't beautiful but very pretty in her innocence or even what she made look like innocence. Her age was about 20 or 21 ... somehow hard to guess. I felt almost invisible when I saw her first because I am just this normal kind of woman, a normal body, some pounds too much on my hips, this boring brown hair color and my eyes are a mix of brown, yellow and green ... not really pretty, at least not eye catching.

I wasn't jealous because she looked better than me, I always knew that I'm no beauty queen, but what really bothered me was that I saw her kissing my husband in that bar I passed the other night. I never went out alone when it was dark but some inner restlessness made me take a walk that night. And then I stood there, petrified by what I saw. He has told me that he was having a poker night with some friends ... male friends. Poker okay, I can believe that they played, strip poker perhaps.

He looked at her with a glance in his eyes I never knew. He smiled and touched her face with his fingertips ... so tender ... so gentle. Did he ever touch me that way? I don't know how long I stood there when he got up and went out of sight, to the toilet, I suppose. That girl took a lipstick and a small mirror out of her bag and painted her lips strawberry red again. Then she stuffed the mirror back and looked up, directly at me ... she waved her hand and smiled like we have known each other for ages already and like we were friends. I stepped back from the window, really disturbed, I walked home, not noticing the tears running down my face. At home I took a shower, went to bed and fell asleep immediately. I didn't hear John, my husband, coming home.

The next morning was one of those TV commercial mornings ... the sun was shining, the birds were singing and the world wore it's most beautiful dress, so I decided not to ask John about that blond poison. I made his breakfast, like every day, and kissed him when he left the house to drive to work. I waited at the front door ... but when he was around the corner I ran into the house and started to prepare myself ... no, not dressing to kill but something more ... what to say ... evil? My dear John never knew how he was caught by me 9 years ago ... he would have never laid an eye on me if I wouldn't have "helped" him a little.

The house we live in belonged to my parents before they died and I know every corner of it ... John didn't. I never told him about the room which was hidden behind the cupboard of the children's room. No, we never had children, so it is unused most of the time. Just a few times, when we have guests, I change the bed clothes and clean it a bit. I stepped through the cupboard into the room I didn't use for more than 8 years now. Dust everywhere but all the things I used when I was younger were still there. When I finished my "work" there a few hours later, I smiled and sung a little melody " ... I've got seven little dolls in a bag ... ". Then I hurried downstairs to prepare dinner for John, my beloved husband.

He was very quiet when we ate and after he had finished he said: "Anette, I will go and play poker again tonight. I lost a little money last night and I want it back. Don't be angry, okay?" Then he kissed me.

I smiled and answered: "Yes, John, it's okay ... I have some housework to do and I want to go to bed early. I feel a little tired. Have fun, darling!"
Oh, of course I didn't think about housework or going to bed ... I sneaked out of the house after him and followed him. I knew he was about to meet the blond girl again. He led me directly to her house. I wrote down the address and went home again. Satisfied for that day I dreamed of beautiful things.

I let some time pass without doing anything but being very nice. I did my every day shit, cooked  good food for John and acted understanding and caring when he told me that he wanted to meet his friend for a "Gambler's Night", how he called it. But then, after 3 weeks, my day had come. My husband was sent to Oklahoma for a few days, because his boss had a job to do there for him. I didn't dress especially when I went to the address I carried with me since I wrote it down the other night. I rang the door bell and Curly Sue, that was how I called her in my thoughts, opened with a bright smile.

"Did you finally surrender?" she asked with a winner's smile, sat down on the sofa and leaned back very relaxed.

"I wanted to make peace with you." I answered, my face also wore a winning smile but I doubt that she noticed it.

I took the cake I made out of my bag and asked her to make some coffee. She was surprised but went to the kitchen to get the coffee machine working. When she came back, plates and cups in her hands, I still smiled and acted friendly. We started to talk and I told her that I don't have any problems with her keeping my husband. I lied about having a lover for a while already and that I would be glad if he had a wonderful woman like her to overcome our separation very fast. She seemed to be eased and took her plate to taste my cake. Oh, she was full of compliments for my baking talent before she suddenly fainted. Sipping my coffee, I watched her, laying half on that sofa and half on the floor. She shrank ... went smaller and smaller. Finally she was laying on the floor, just 4 inches tall. I picked her up and hid her in my bag. I cleaned the cups and plates, then I went home again.

She lives in the doll house of my childhood now. I care good for her, she gets these nice puppet dresses and shoes and of course enough food. Last week I saw her face on a poster, they search for her. I don't think they will ever find her. Sad thing .. such a pretty girl and nobody knows what happened to her ... she vanished without a trace.

Actually I'm making a cake ... for John. I think Curly Sue needs company.