the first dolls i had were stones in my grandparents’ backyard.
i would scoop up dirt and pluck those giant puffball mushrooms from the ground to make them dinner,
and then i’d dress them with fallen leaves or flowers for that pop of colour.
i wonder when i was stripped of the imagination that allowed me to see stones as beings that breathed life,
as sentient creatures that got upset when they’re hungry, or happy when they feel loved and appreciated.
now they’re just painful to walk on barefoot.
May 26
May 26, 2026 at 12:32 PM UTC
the first dolls i had were stones in my grandparents’ backyard.
i would scoop up dirt and pluck those giant puffball mushrooms from the ground to make them dinner,
and then i’d dress them with fallen leaves or flowers for that pop of colour.
i wonder when i was stripped of the imagination that allowed me to see stones as beings that breathed life,
as sentient creatures that got upset when they’re hungry, or happy when they feel loved and appreciated.
now they’re just painful to walk on barefoot.
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