This is Mireille, the most recent visitor to land on my door step.
Can you believe it? I’m sitting here on this old picnic table, notebook half-forgotten, pretending to sketch the trees but really watching her. Mireille. Mee-RAY. She doesn’t even notice me, or maybe she does, in that way that makes your skin prickle. She’s walking through the park like she owns every dappled patch of sunlight, arms loose at her sides, hair catching the wind just so.
And get this — the name itself? Oh yeah, it’s supposedly French, from some old Provençal poet who thought it clever to call a girl “miracle” or “wonder” or whatever. Like that’s not pretentious at all. Mireille. It’s basically stamped with destiny: irresistible, ethereal, untouchable. Great. Thanks, history.
And the guys… God, the guys. Every single one of them is turning their heads, stealing glances like they don’t even know they’re doing it. She doesn’t have to say a word. No lines, no charm offensive, no laughing at bad jokes, just walking. That’s it. That’s all it takes. She flicks her hair, tilts her head, lets her eyes meet theirs for half a second and move on, and suddenly they’re following her with their thoughts instead of their feet.

I try to tell myself it’s ridiculous. She’s just… existing. But that’s exactly the problem. She’s too much. Too easy, too natural. Too… irresistible. I want to tell myself I’m imagining it, that I’m overreacting. But every time she smiles, not even at anyone, my stomach tightens, my chest does that weird flutter, and I realize I’m already counting the imaginary hearts she’s stolen in my mind.
And I hate her for it. I hate her for the way she moves, for the way the sun hits her skin, for the way the whole park seems to pause when she passes by. I want to look away. I have to look away. But I can’t. I don’t want to.
Mireille. Just her name makes me ache.
Mireille is a 1/3 scale (60cm) BJD (ball joint doll)
NoFA / MoAI
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I try to tell myself it’s ridiculous. She’s just… existing. But that’s exactly the problem. She’s too much. Too easy, too natural. Too… irresistible. I want to tell myself I’m imagining it, that I’m overreacting. But every time she smiles, not even at anyone, my stomach tightens, my chest does that weird flutter, and I realize I’m already counting the imaginary hearts she’s stolen in my mind.


Mireille is a 1/3 scale (60cm) BJD (ball joint doll)
NoFA / MoAI
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