I cup you in my palm, brushing your curls with my thumbnail. The ringlets, once soda-can width, now spiral like tiny quinoa germs.
“Show me, Da.” When I crouch, present you to our daughter, she only pokes your plasticized wrist, mumbling about ice cream.
2856. Still the trial group, but it’s clear Departed Dolls™ perfected their technique long ago. There’s your rooster forearm tattoo, Shrinky Dinked to stick-on earring size. Your lips they’ve painted red: wrong. A color you donned for celebration.
“Shall Ma come home, or stay here, my love?” I ask, but I’m already palming the storage key.
Photo Credit: Mark Blanchard
What an interesting piece! I would call it sci-fi/surrealism. I thoroughly enjoyed it, especially the Shrinky-Dink rooster tattoo.🤓