#51 Haute Couture

Cameras flashed continuously as the models sashayed down the ramp. It was the designers’ first collection.

He knew every stitch on the garments like the words of a song. For the past eight months they had been the first thing he saw in the morning and the last vision before he fell asleep. He swelled with pride as he watched the critics make their notes.

The last model walked back and the crowd rose to a standing ovation. Tears fell to the tailors’ cheeks as he watched the designer take his bows. Someday, maybe they would know his name too.