My husband and I stay up late nights while my stepson sleeps. We retreat to my upstairs office, the sloped roof and pictures of the Virgin Mary and James Dean and Frida Kahlo on the walls, sometimes balancing cocktails in our hands as we climb the stairs, and talk for hours until one of us begs off to go to bed. One night recently, I hauled my jewelry box from the closet, where it’s kept tucked away on a high, dark shelf so the cat can’t get into it, and set it on the rug, myself cross-legged in front of it.
words © Lindsey Gates Markel / photo © Katy Jones
-
katylouise liked this
-
katylouise reblogged this from theblindhem
-
theblindhem posted this
