Malinda Lo. Ash.
There’s a scene where daughter and mother are preparing for festivities. It involves costuming and the application of make-up. And of course questions.
“But how will I know if I see a fairy?” Ash asked again. “If they look like ordinary people, I won’t be able to tell.”
“You’ll be able to tell,” her mother told her, “because wherever they touch, they’ll leave a bit of gold dust behind.” She put down the brush and turned her daughter to face the mirror. “Now look — there’s the prettiest fairy I’ve ever seen.” Ash stared at herself, spellbound. Her eyes had been outlined in silver paint, and the color trailed down her cheeks in wondrous curls of gleaming light.
“It is like magic,” Ash whispered.
Her mother smiled at her, her hand touching her hair. “Yes, my love, it is.”
Perfect mise-en-abyme. For here we have a flashback that could very well be a commentary on the art of storytelling itself.
And so for day 1424