They were showing this really ornate kimono on TV just now, with amazing gold thread embroidery in patterns reflecting the spring, like cherry-blossoms. "It's something that would be worn by a hight-class..." my mom pauses, looking for the right word.
"Courtesan," I offer.
Evidently she didn't hear me, because she's still searching her brain, looking up toward the ceiling, eyes a little squintier than normal.
"A high-class..." As her gaze falls back toward earth, I try again. "Courtesan?"
"...whore."
This is my mother.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment