I opened the wardrobe. And there was the dress. Crimson and floaty. The dress of my dreams. If I wore it, could I become the girl in the picture?
Fingers fumbled with fasteners made stiff with disuse. My heart beat loudly. Breathing threatened to disintegrate ancient stitches. I looked in the mirror, longing to meet the higher reality; yearning for my true, lost, self.
So near, yet so far. Teasing hint of reflection increased my desire.
I spied the shoe and, rummaging, found the other. They fit like Cinderella’s slipper.
Forsaking the now redundant mirror, I ascended the invisible staircase.
Thanks to Paula for bringing this to my attention.
Are you living your dreams?
What does it take for you to become your true self?