“No, child,” he said, and his eyes were the same color as the vellum. “The machines are turning into them. The catalog is a mirror. You’re looking at the wrong side.”
Jana looked down at her boots. The roots had reached her knees. She could feel the 1742 oak forest rising inside her shins. She had a choice: rip off the boots and burn the vellum, or step forward and become the final entry. strauß engelbert katalog
She thought of the seamstress. The tanner. The child with the rivets. “No, child,” he said, and his eyes were
“You knew,” she said.
Engelbert Strauss did not die. That was the first mistake. ” he said
The second mistake was the order.
That night, she dreamed of mud.