Beneath Ceaseless Skies | The Bodice, The Hem, The Woman, Death by Karen Osborne
A few days before the end of our world, my mother took me to her favorite tailor to be fit for a dress I would never wear. She swept through Amaurel’s opulent central gallery like a dragon made of merlot and diamond, her chin high, her tongue cavali… Beneath Ceaseless Skies | The Bodice, The Hem, The Woman, Death by Karen Osborne via Instapaper https://ift.tt/2CEq8eO