[🪨1/4] On the Origin of Stones

You're a rock. No name, no talent, nobody remembers you. But this planet spent 4.6 billion years making you, so you might as well do something — so you decide to roll.

You roll through riverbeds, volcanoes, sewers, and all sorts of places you have no business being, picking up whatever sticks along the way: sulfur, bird droppings, someone else's tears, a song you happened to overhear. The narrator will mock you the whole time, and help you with nothing.

Until one day you decide to settle, and call it — and see what eons of aimless drifting have slow-cooked you into.