I saw a doll lying on the side of the road. Her face white and shiny, like porcelain, her green kimono was dated, and fading.
As a routine I took a picture, recorded the location and documented it with my PDA. I was going to leave her like that, but the doll was staring at me, begging me to pick her up. Through her dark little eyes, I saw her soul. Her little soul gave me the permission to steal her from the graveyard.
Technically I wasn't stealing. I've checked the tombs around, they belonged to some old men or women, too old to play dolls. She was clearly abandoned, probably by a local kid who just bought a Nintendo Wii.
I picked her up and gave her a name. I called her Midori, after a sushi restaurant I visited in Tokyo. I whispered her name in her ear, but then I found out she didn't have ears.
I wrapped her up in a 7-eleven plastic bag and the whole package fitted nicely into my backpack.
*After note: Later when I returned to the hotel, I found her photo was missing, probably deleted accidentally when I tried to clear some space so I can take pictures of some ducks. But the doll was still in my backpack, so I thought I could always take a picture later. I kept procrastinating. Eventually, I donated her to the Jinja and forgot about the picture until it was too late. The picture you see here is from the same shrine I donated her to. She was a bit smaller than this doll, but much prettier. My doll was wearing a green kimono, but the doll in this picture was wearing a blue kimono (which I painted green artificially). Also the doll I got was made of wood. I'm not sure the doll in this picture is made of wood or ceramic.