Chapter 50
The room of the small sewing workshop is bathed in the scorching sunset of the Vegas afternoon. The sky exhibits a deep tone of cobalt, dispensing with the presence of imminent clouds or storms. Sweating, panting and struggling to adapt my lungs to the infernal climate, I keep my attention in the mirror in front of me, where I am reflected in my immaculate wedding dress.
Seven days after my Lingerie tea, I find myself under pins and needles from the seamstress who adapts and perfects the dress that has been passing on for years to every woman in our family. The heavy shiny satin will have received more cuts and adjustments than can be expected from a garment worn once every decade, and perhaps this is the reason why in my turn there are more fabrics inflaming and surrounding the delicate base.
A fusion of Organza decorates the bulky skirt aroun
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