Pretty Boy Dthrip [new] [ PREMIUM › ]

“You’re Pretty Boy Dthrip,” she said, sniffling.

“They say if you cry, bad things happen.” pretty boy dthrip

And the tree began to whisper.

It was a strange name to hang on any child, let alone one as delicate as a porcelain doll: Pretty Boy Dthrip. His real name was Dorian Thrip, but the "Pretty Boy" had stuck since he was old enough to toddle down the gravel paths of Cinder Lane. With hair the color of wet straw and eyes like two chips of summer sky, Dorian looked like a Renaissance cherub who’d wandered into a coal-mining town. “You’re Pretty Boy Dthrip,” she said, sniffling

The strange part—the part that made folks cross to the other side of the street—was the luck. Or the un luck, depending on who you asked. His real name was Dorian Thrip, but the

“You’re lonely,” the tinker said.

Pretty Boy looked up, and for the first time, didn’t try to hold the tears back. Two perfect, crystalline drops slid down his cheeks. “I don’t want to tip things over. I want a friend.”