As I turned around the corner, I saw it. It was laying on display across a bed. It was perfect, my dream dress. I slowly walked toward it, stopping every few seconds to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It was white and poufy, with chiffon flowers cascading down it. I couldn’t believe I had come across this beautiful thing in a little vintage shop; in a little run-down town.

I picked up the dress, and took it into the cramped bathroom they had tried to transform into a dressing room. Carefully, I put on the dress and zipped it up, a perfect fit. I walked out of the dressing room to get the verdict from my grandma and mom who had tagged along. Before they said a word I could tell by the looks on their faces that they thought it was beautiful. That fact was reassured when they said it two seconds later.

Without making a sound, my mom told me to go change so she could buy it. I was ecstatic. I quickly rushed back into the cramped dressing room, and changed as fast as I could, trying not to rip the dress.

When I got home, I carefully hung up the dress in my closet anticipating the moment I would wear it again. I hung it near the front of my closet, so that every time I see it I relive the excitement of finding it, and I can dream of the perfect day, when I will wear my perfect dress. Now that I think of it, prom is coming up pretty soon…