We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
Chapter 15
Rosalba was sitting in the shade of the doorway, making lace. At first her fingers were slow and clumsy, but after a while they caught the rhythm and seemed to work of their own accord, the delicate lace tumbling onto the cushion in a froth of white. As her fingers took over, she allowed her mind to wander. This lace was exactly the same pattern as the lace that her grandmother and she had made for her own wedding dress all those years ago. She remembered her grandmother teaching her how to do the delicate work, sitting together in a doorway almost opposite to the one she was sitting in now. And as she worked, she thought about Carlos. It had been very strange, the way it had happened. One minute, it seemed, Carlos had just been one more little boy running barefoot in the street and the n
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD