Posthuman

I brought the stone back to our grotto because I liked its stubborn shape - a weary mastodon, belly deep in the river.

The one with long hair wanted to move it and I fought with him. It could be called unreasonable. They don't see it's energy.

The little one with big eyes looks at it too. She brought coal from the fire and made on it the shape of a man. I asked who, and she said it was me. I am the man on the stone and the man regarding the stone. Now I am afraid what will happen if the stone is broken, or my image rubbed off.