Annikki, Ilmarinen's cherished doll, radiated joy as they journeyed home together. Nestled on the coach seat, she clutched a pocket mirror, her slender fingers gliding over the polished surface of her face, admiring the exquisite changes the artisan master they had visited had meticulously crafted. Annikki's reflection sparkled back at her, the glint of her newly painted eyes shimmering with a vibrancy she had never known, as an otherworldly glow illuminated her porcelain skin. Each detail, from the delicate blush newly dusted on her cheeks to the pristine, newly replaced teeth, filled her with an intoxicating sense of pride, an emotion that she had never experienced before.
Yet, as she gazed at herself, lost in admiration, the reality of her master’s somber demeanor slipped past her awareness like a shadow in the dusk. Ilmarinen sat beside her, his heart heavy, a storm of conflicting emotions brewing beneath the surface. The sweet scent of the journey—the earthy aroma of the road, mingled with the faint hint of flowers wafting through the open window—did little to lift the weight pressing on his shoulders.
As they arrived at his modest home, Ilmarinen felt the familiar comfort of his small apartment wrap around him like a warm blanket. The walls, painted a cheerful yellowish brown, seemed to breathe light into the space, while the black sofa sat invitingly in the living room. The wooden floor creaked gently beneath his feet, the sound echoing softly in the quiet of the evening. Rugs adorned the floor, their textures a mix of soft fibers inviting him to sink into their warmth.
Annikki skipped ahead, her joy palpable, and Ilmarinen watched her with a bittersweet smile. She was so alive, so vibrant, while he felt like a ghost haunting the remnants of a life marked by shadows. Barefoot, he stepped into the kitchen, the coolness of the tiled floor sending a shiver up his spine, as he poured himself some liquor.
Ilmarinen observed Annikki closely, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. The usually inexpressive and taciturn doll now showed an array of mannerisms, emotions, and expressions that resembled those of a spirited young child. He watched as she puffed her cheeks, her brows furrowing in displeasure as she complained about something trivial, her voice rising in an almost adorable whine. It was a sight that struck him with both wonder and trepidation.
This was something entirely new, something he had never seen before. The subtle twitch of her lips, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, and the small huffs of indignation painted a vibrant portrait of life where there had once been only stillness. Väino’s artistry, and his delicate handling of Annikki’s heart, had imbued her with a library of emotions she had never had. The thought filled Ilmarinen with a strange mix of pride and apprehension. How could something so simple—a mere touch of his friend’s hands—transform Annikki’s personality so profoundly?
He found himself at a crossroads of emotion. On one hand, the changes were indeed wonderful, a revelation that brought a smile to his face. He had longed for Annikki to express herself, to break free from the constraints of her earlier existence, and his lack of skill at providing her with better emotions. Yet, he could not shake the nagging feeling that this newfound vibrancy would only serve to magnify the pain buried deep within him. As he studied her animated features, he felt a pang of sorrow twist in his chest, a reminder of his long-gone daughter.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The resemblance was striking—Annikki’s laughter echoed the sweet giggles of the little girl he had lost. Each playful gesture, each whimsical pout, struck a chord deep within him, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been. Would this newfound personality only deepen the scars he carried? Would he find joy in Annikki’s expressions, or would they only serve as a reminder of his loss?
As Ilmarinen struggled with his thoughts, he noticed a flicker of apprehension in Annikki’s eyes, a fleeting moment where the child-like exuberance gave way to uncertainty. She looked at him, her expression shifting as if sensing his turmoil. It was a raw, unguarded moment, and it gripped him with an unexpected tenderness.
“Annikki,” he said gently, kneeling to meet her at eye level as she stayed seated on the sofa. “Are you alright?”
She nodded, but the hesitation lingered, clear in the way her fingers toyed with the hem of her dress, a nervous habit that reminded him of children everywhere. “I just... don’t know, I feel alright, but different,” she admitted, her voice small and vulnerable.
“Different how?” Ilmarinen inquired, his heart aching at the thought of her confusion.
“Like… like I have all these weird but warm thoughts now,” she replied, her brow furrowing as she struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. “Sometimes, it’s too much. I don’t know what to do with them.”
A rush of empathy flooded through Ilmarinen. His heart ached for her, understanding the weight of emotions all too well. “It’s alright to feel,” he reassured her, his voice soft and soothing. “Feelings can be confusing, but they’re also what make us alive. You’re learning, just like all of us do.”
Annikki looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder and a touch of fear. “Will it always be this way? Will I always feel so… so much?”
Ilmarinen hesitated, searching for the right words. In truth, he did not know. Life was like a canvas of emotions, each thread interwoven with joy, sorrow, love, and loss. “Yes,” he finally responded, “but that’s what makes life beautiful. Embrace the feelings, Annikki. They’re a part of who you are now.”
A flicker of understanding passed across her features, and for a moment, she found solace in his words. “I want to be happy,” she said. “I want to laugh and play, and I don’t want to feel sad anymore.”
“Then let’s find ways to make you happy.” Ilmarinen smiled, touched by her earnestness. “I guess you only needed to touch of an expert to make things right. I’m sorry that I wasn’t as good as a craftsman when I created you.”
“Don’t worry,” Annikki said. She perched on the edge of the sofa, her wide eyes sparkling with an innocent curiosity he had never seen before. "Who was he?"
"An old friend," he answered, settling beside her. The weight of his words felt heavier than he intended. "An old rival."
"He didn't seem friendly when he saw you," Annikki observed, tilting her head slightly.
Ilmarinen sighed, the sound escaping him like a breath he had been holding for too long. He could still feel the sharpness of their encounter, the way the air had crackled with unsaid words and unresolved feelings. "I'm gonna tell you a story," he said, his voice steadying as he turned to face her.