I purchased this Vintage dress for $13. She's Magic.
Someone fell in Love in this dress. She whispered the story so none of the other customers in the store would hear.
"I am meant for you," said the dress. "You look like her."
"I look like who?" I whispered back.
"You look like Rose."
Rose wore this dress to the State Fair one year and met Hank.
He made a fool of himself in an effort to get her attention.
"You look real pretty in that dress, Miss Rose," she said after he had introduced himself. "You're the prettiest girl at the whole fair!"
She wasn't sure if she liked him, at first. He wasn't really her type, you see. But as the night wore on and she stared into his clear blue eyes she knew.
It hit her hard. Like the ball that knocks down all the milk bottles and you win a prize. Hank knocked her down. She fell into him and never got back up again. She was his prize. And he was hers.
She married him at the court house three weeks later in flowy yellow chiffon and a delicate strand of pearls.
When they made love that night they were consumed with fire. The Universe blessed their union and angels sang praises of the Purity of Love Unfeigned.
There is nothing so binding and sacred as that of a marriage vow. Those who veer from the promise they have made suffer greatly.
Hank was shipped off to war shortly after.
She wore the dress again as she said goodbye to the only man she would ever love. Her body trembled and chest ached.
He held her face in both of his hands and kissed her soft, red mouth. He wiped her tears with his thumbs.
"I'll be back, Rose. Don't you worry none about me. I'll be thinking about you every minute!"
Then he was gone.
The day he died he came to her in a dream.
"I told you I'd come back!" he said. "I'll be waiting for you right here until you're ready, Rose."
Rose passed recently and the dress she had treasured was given to a thrift store.
I'm glad we have found each other, this dress and I.
I feel the magic and simplicity of New Love when I wear it.
The magic reminds me of my husband. He wants to give me the world and can't seem to understand he already has.
I love you, Mr. Pistol. You are my one and only.
THE END
