I got the idea from one of your old stories. Building golems out of river mud and whatnot. Except I didn't want a golem. I just wanted you back by my side.Peddling clayware in the sweltering heat isn't the easiest thing, especially if you're twelve and the only adult you have with you is one you created with your own two hands. The golem is melting like a beeswax candle under the midday sun. Its rich brown skin drips in irregular rivulets down its bulky body. Though I tried, the golem doesn't look like you at all, Abba.A crash indicates the golem has broken another hand-painted vase from our m