Women gathered on the rooftop, each holding cloth and starting to stitch. Every stitch held a story about the village, the road, and those who left. Tatreez was never ornament — it was a record written in thread.
Women gathered on the rooftop, each holding cloth and starting to stitch. Every stitch held a story about the village, the road, and those who left. Tatreez was never ornament — it was a record written in thread.