Tapestry - was the kind of woman people remembered long after the circus left town—auburn hair catching the light like a flicker of fire, skin a riot of inked symbols and curious beasts. In the 1930s, when bread was scarce and hope scarcer, she swung from trapezes and smiled through sequins, charming crowds with a wink that hid the storm beneath. Though the audience saw only her daring and dazzle, backstage she wrestled with a quiet, constant self-doubt—a fear that without the spotlight, she might simply vanish. But night after night, she climbed the ladder, stepped into the light, and flew—if only to prove to herself that she still could.
“Poppy”
