I start the day ordinarily, opening up the shop, making sure everything is presentable in my little corner of the shopping centre. Not much business as usual, thanks to my secluded area, but my place of business has adapted to survive in modern times, and it has built quite a good reputation among those interested in my wares. Age has failed to take its toll on my mind and my fingers, which I suppose is my gift, allowing me to work my trade even into my old age, and so I will continue to create until I can create no more. The day progresses normally, with only those stumbling out of the more conventional stores coming upon my shop. A few girls, and slightly unusually a boy, although like most of his gender he's simply searching for something to present to a lady of his affection. Nothing unusual.

In the late hours of the day, one last customer comes in, a young girl, probably from somewhere in town. Pretty young thing, probably doesn't realise it, looking around the store. She doesn't notice me, so I remain polite and let her get her bearings and look around for a moment, eventually reaching my special stock, taking a curious look at their extra detail like they always do. I give her another moment before offering my usual help. She turns it down, and bumps the display case as she turns to face me, knocking one of the dolls over, but luckily, the problem quickly corrects itself, as it should.

She takes another few minutes to look around, carefully appraising the more standard dolls, until she notices the sign. Ah, this could be interesting. Like most, she takes an interest in its generous offer, and soon comes towards me. So she's decided that she'll take the offer. It's simply unfortunate that she doesn't know what comes next. I give her the usual options of capturing her own image, or creating a new one. She picks the second option, and in a short time has produced an original design, and judging by the quality of the image she appears to be an artist of sorts. Perhaps something can be arranged for her when this is over.

I take her payment and she goes on her way into what she assumes will be an ordinary few days, while I make the necessary arrangements. Soon, there is nothing to do for the both of us to do but wait.

The week passes normally. Sales are made, payments are sent, and some go home happier than other. Some walk in and out with more and less than they came in with, some leave with no change. Such is the nature of my trade. Nothing gained, nothing lost. On the final day, I am in the back room of the store when I hear the sound of my door opening, and the calling of the young girl.

I step out and up to the counter, and see how she's progressed. Pretty young thing, a different kind of pretty now. Fragile young thing, too fragile for the world now. She collapses, and the final changes are made, leaving her alone on the ground, her oversized and rain-soaked clothes gone, used for her final change, nothing but a wet floor remaining as a sign of her past, and even that will quickly pass. I pick her up and store her away, away from the dangers of the world, along with the rest of her kind. They see their newest member, and wait for her to wake up. She'll most likely react the same way as the others, and learn to cope the same way as the others.

I'm about to lock the doors of my store in the fading hours of the day when another girl comes in, to take a look at the dolls. Pretty young thing.