The girl from Samarcand

In a lushly drawn world where opulent carpets and exotic whispers dominate the household, Diane finds herself tangled in the eccentricities of her husband, Ham, whose devotion to centuries‑old rugs borders on obsession. Their marriage is a delicate dance of affection and frustration, played out amid the shimmering tea‑colored hues of Feraghan weaves and the clatter of New Orleans’ French Quarter beyond the loft windows. As Diane confides in her friend Louise, the conversation drifts from milk‑filled bathtubs to the unsettling notion of sharing a husband with a collection that seems to breathe its own history.

The story balances witty banter with an undercurrent of unease, inviting listeners to glimpse a domestic sphere that feels both lavish and claustrophobic. Through lyrical dialogue and vivid descriptions, it explores how the objects we cherish can shape, and sometimes threaten, the very fabric of our relationships. The opening promises a charming yet unsettling portrait of love, longing, and the strange allure of objects that demand attention far beyond their weight.