Well, it’s for certain I still have all my little pigeons. A pair of them are in the cage, and the rest huddle under my blanket when I sleep. Gerda will miss them, and serves her right for going away. She should have used a knife on hert Kai, but girls like that never listen.
I have a silver ring. Last week we all set upon a rich man and his wife (it was jolly to see them afraid — how I laughed!), and after they were dead I slid it off her finger. It has a little pearl in it, pink as skin, and if I look for long a face is peering back at me. That’s a friend, or close enough.
I have seven gold coins, and a brass medallion I won in a fight. I have a piece of his ear, too. It goes next to the medallion on the string.
Genevieve Valentine is a writer based in New York; recent work has been published in Strange Horizons, Fantasy, Byzarium, and Quarter After Eight. She has questionable taste in movies, a tragedy she tracks on her blog.
Image: Stories from Hans Andersen, with illustrations by Edmund Dulac, London, Hodder & Stoughton, Ltd., 1911.