It looks like an ordinary doll, right? Well, that’s because it is. An ordinary doll, I mean. It was made in some sweatshop in Indonesia by a little girl who didn’t know what dolls were about but did know the $4 a day she earned meant dinner for everyone every night.
Then it got shipped to a port city along with all the other freight destined to be sent to Eugene, Oregon in plenty of time for Christmas shopping. Even in Indonesia now, the containers get lifted and loaded and shoved into place perfectly by machines and the men who used to do that — ok, and sometimes losing hands or fingers in the process — were at least relieved their kids had jobs in the sweatshops. That meant there was some money coming in. Have another beer and turn the volume up on the TV.
Once the containers arrived in Eugene, each shipment got sorted and sent to the different stores by a complex algorithm designed by a 24 year-old-kid whose exit strategy ensured that he’d never have to work for the rest of his life. He’s in Bali now trying to decide between another startup or suicide. Meanwhile, our perfectly ordinary doll is routed to the smaller, older Walmart on the other side of town, the one where people pay for their groceries with food stamps.
The perfectly ordinary doll was the delight of one perfectly ordinary little girl in Eugene for approximately a month. After that, the doll wound up in the back of the closet where the family cat had kittens on it. It lay there forgotten until after the family moved. Then it got tossed out with the rest of the junk as the landlord cleaned the place out for the new tenants.
No new tenants.
The pandemic that was just going to be China’s problem turned out to be everyone’s problem. The doll that should have wound up in the landfill instead got picked up by a drunk who carried it as a good luck charm to rehab. When the drunk got sober and got out of rehab, she was pretty sure the doll had something to do with keeping her sober. She moved to NYC, taking the doll but not bothering with any of that boring old AA crap. But, remember, it’s just an ordinary doll and no match for two week’s quarantine in New York.
Disgusted with that stupid, useless doll the newly drunk drunk tossed her into the trash and went to the bar.
Days pass and the doll remains in the trash. Due to the pandemic, no one is out doing their jobs including sanitation. It’s rained a lot lately. The doll is not in great shape by this point. But she’s just an ordinary doll, after all, and there could be someone looking for an ordinary doll coming by here any minute.
Either that or some collage artist who sees the perfect shot for a new piece he’s thinking of.
© Remington Write 2020. All Rights Reserved.
Read AleXander Hirka’s version here:
In August 2020, AleXander Hirka set himself the challenge of creating a daily digital collage based on an image and a concept. The image is that of the antique Omega watch that belonged to his Mom and the concept is Time. In September 2020, the Anomalous Duo is challenging themselves to write a short piece of fiction for each collage — the Our Hours project.