Empty Inkwell

When I was a lit­tle girl, my mom made me a doll… from scratch. She had brown yarn for hair, hand-made clothes… a mauve col­ored dress with small flow­ers, embroi­dered face details, every­thing so detailed, so intri­cately made just for me. I loved it to pieces… really. It ended up thrashed by the time I out­grew toys. I loved a lot of things […]