of Dissolved Effigies
By Kevin S. Mahoney
It was one of those things no one thought about, like the lint under the refrigerator, or who cut their barber’s hair. Thousands were made, every year, in any location that would support the art form. Generation schooled generation on the process, families united in cold purpose. Every form was unique. Each artifact was personalized, sculpted by its creators from their environment. Each building block was unlike every other one, from the macroscopic to the microscopic level. Molecules were connected, melding from the warmth of the people, changing according to their whims, each form distinct and temporary.