The Shopping Trip

Sophie had cajoled and wheedled him into coming on this trip. It wasn’t usually his “thing”, preferring to be down the pub talking football with his mates on a Saturday afternoon, but there was none on this weekend, so no excuses! She was skipping along the path, talking incessantly and excitedly, he felt like the condemned man, and started to drag his heels, trying to delay the inevitable as much as possible.
As they approached “The Little Shop of Dreams” his sense of dread increased, why had he agreed to do this? She had heard that this place had unique designs and that was what she wanted and she needed him to help her choose!
They walked up a little dark side street that not many serious shoppers frequented. As they approached, he could see how unassuming, and a little drab the frontage was, but the dress in the window looked astonishing, like the stars from the sky had been drawn down and attached themselves to the diaphanous material caressing the mannequin’s curves. As they walked through the door, the gentle music seemed to soothe his mood and reassure him that this was the right place to come.  The racks of dresses surrounded the walls, and they seemed to whisper and sway to try and gain attention. The pinks, purples, blues, greens and yellows to one side of the room, to the reds, burgandy, creams and whites on the other, sequins, lace, brocade, devore……. A cacophony of colour and texture!
“This won’t take long”, she had told him, but as he settled into the welcoming folds of the armchair, thoughtfully provided, he knew he would be in for the long haul. He closed his eyes and wished his wife had lived to see their daughter in her first ball gown.

© Hilary Taylor