Rows dolls filled
Rows of dolls filled the market stall, arranged with a meticulous order that felt strangely cold. Looking closely at their identical features made distinctions seem less real—a quality perhaps added by looking itself. Value appeared to accumulate not from what they *were*, but through the control of their numbers and the things left unsaid about their making; faint scuffs on the floorboards hinted at more hands than were immediately visible. Though flawless in appearance, each doll carried a quiet weight—the unseen cost of its form.