Skip to main content

Her grandmother's dress

Josette sleeping deeply.


Josette stirs.


"I must have been dreaming."


"I was wearing Grandmother's dress and carrying a bouquet of lilies of the valley. It felt so real."


Josette goes to Grandmother's room in the old mansion.


"I haven't entered this room in ages, but here is the dress, just as I remember it."


"I used to come to this room and look at it when I was a girl. Grandmother once told me that I must wear this dress when I married."


"It's gotten yellow with age, and it's a little dusty. I wonder if I will ever walk down the aisle in this dress."


"Grandmother looked so beautiful in her wedding pictures. I loved to look at them and think of what she was like when she was a young bride."


"The dress and veil are old-fashioned, but I have always loved old things."


"'I promise to love and cherish you all the days of my life.'"


"I'm being foolish, pretending this way. Perhaps the man waiting for me is only in my dreams."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fanchon

I can't believe it. It looks like the rusted gates to The Garden of Virtues are going to be laboriously parted by small articulated resin hands after all once more. I am glad that I am buying Lanie's Angel, but I am also a little sad. I remember disposing of Dresden along with my other dolls. I was in a vicious rage. I hesitated over Dresden's prone form, thinking, goodness, even I don't think of her as a BJD, is this really necessary? And then, blindly, cutting the strings. I can't believe I am actually talking about this now. I have not talked about it before. I regretted losing her afterward, because I did not really need to part with her. She was a sweet, special presence, a little woman. I have kept all of her eyes, wigs and clothes. Of course I will never forget the moments in which I divested all of my BJD's of their clothing, wigs and eyes. The other day Henry came around with a little velcro he had found and I grew faint, knowing that it had come fro...

Autumn approaches

The days are growing shorter. Gusts of wind blow away the last bits of red and golden leaves clinging to the trees. Ophelia walks through the garden, her heavy, curling blonde hair falling behind her suspended in a kerchief. In her arms is a basket of gourds. A hand snatches her from behind. She turns and meets a mirthful gaze. "Shelley!" She scowls unpleasantly. "Don't bother me." Ignoring her, he binds her hands, forcing her to drop her basket. The gourds roll around the hem of her threadbare skirt. "How quickly it's grown cold. Isn't it invigorating, this wind?" "Stop this nonsense. See what you've made me do? You'll have bruised squash for dinner." "My love, can't you stop a moment and look over the river? Look at the golden trees, touched with the very last bit of daylight. Have you ever noticed how they grow orange before it gets dark?" "I've never had a mind to look. And I am not 'your lo...

Paper doll copying, digital editing project