WRITING PROMPT NO. 169
Her hands sank into the plush velvet sofa cushion.
The luxury of the fabric against the back of her knees made her feel uncomfortable. She’d walked passed three homeless men asleep on laid out cardboard in the shadows of the designer shops.
Her friend, Lily, came out of the changing room wearing an ivory silk confection of a dress, the tiny embroidery stitches created by hands that were smaller than an adult’s. Lily’s face was flushed with excitement. This was what she’d wanted all her life since they became friends in primary school.
“What do you think?” Lily gathered up some of the fabric in her hands revealing her feet dressed in Spiderman socks. She swished the dress from side to side.
“Lovely,” said Valerie.
“You hate it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I can tell.” Lily twirled from side to side, pushing her hair over one shoulder.
“Who made it?” Valerie couldn’t help herself. “Do you know? It’s important that you know.”
Lily patted the dress down and sighed.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Lily!” Valerie’s exasperation penetrated the moment of delicious joy Lily was having.
“Val. You know, I just, I don’t know, I just didn’t get round to it. I saw this in the window. Mum said Dad would love it.”
“Of course,” said Valerie.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” said Valerie. “You look beautiful.”
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