The Golden Mirror
Act I Soo-ah Song’s brush hovered over the wet ink, the tip trembling not from age but from the weight of the Larkspurn copper thimble she wore on her left index finger, a relic from a life before the pawn shop, before the divorce papers turned her name into a line item in arrears. Outside the window of the tailor’s shop of mirrors, where the glass panels reflected the grey October light that...
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