439 - It Makes Life Weird

My mother looked different somehow.  I wasn't sure what it was.  There was no sign of the mother stone but I did not expect it.  She might never wear it, for all that she had accepted it. She was, as always, dressed in her Mahid black and greys, but Grandfather had decreed that other colours were mandatory for the new Mahid.  So she wore a fichu of a rich burgundy with a tiny bright thread in