little things for big places: We shared our stories to the beloved skulls of our dead, those shelters of the soul, dug back up from earth once the bone dried. We caked our collected skulls in the brightest possible clay, bringing something of life back to the face. The faces of our dead filled our houses and we told them what we needed them to know. We made decisions in their presence and prayed. We told them what fright packed our dreams full. We told them whether or not the apricot trees thrived. But mostly, in the presence of our dead souls, we shared our stories and gave birth to new ones.