It was never even a special rock. They just came home from walks with their pockets and hands full of sticks and rocks and whatever else. I cleaned a bookshelf last week and found an acorn. I think I raised squirrels.
Madness string 114679
Consider, Dreamer: the darkness behind the universe. The other, the nothing, the space between space, the heartbeat beyond time. It changes, it presses, it hungers. As the threads of the worlds rub together, as reality pushes and pulls in its swaying dance, it is there, always there, an unseen mirror poking holes, unravelling at the edges of everything.