The little girl wandered into the living room hoping to find her Mama, who could nearly always be talked into playing Dolls, or sometimes even Dress Up. Mama wasn't in the living room, and the girl nearly left, but there was someone else there lying on the sofa. Someone who wasn't moving.
She wasn't sure who was on the sofa, but something about the face made her think she should know. The girl walked closer then, tossing blonde curls back over her shoulders, she looked at the lady very close. The lady's face was very puffy and had lots of ows. Different kind of ows, too. Some were pokey ows, some were scrapey and there were lots that the little girl didn't know what kind they were. But ows were ows and every little girl knows how to make them better.
She leaned over to gently press her lips to the biggest ow on the lady's cheek. It felt yucky, like it was rough and goopy at the same time. She pulled back to watch what happened next, but nothing did. Maybe there were so many ows she needed to kiss more. She kissed one on the top of the lady's face, one on her nose and one on her arm. Still nothing happened. Maybe she needed to kiss them all.
She tried a few more, then thought there were too many for one little girl to take care of. Mama was a great ow kisser, so together-- She took a surprised breath. Of course she knew the lady on the couch. If not for the puffy and all the ows, she would have known when she first came in.
She needed Mama even more now.
The little girl found her mama in the little studio where she practiced her new songs. Bothering Mama in the studio without Papa was a big, big no-no, but this was important. She shook the door knob.
“What's up, sugar baby? You know you're not supposed to come--”
Mama's face got sad. “Oh baby, we don't know. We don't even know where she is. We just have to hope--”
“No, Mama, Das ow!”
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