Like Finally Finding Shoes That Fit 2
Joy bubbled in Sam's throat and rattled against her diaphragm as she eased the shirt on - making sure nothing touched the sigils on her arm.
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Prompt from PrideOnThePage
Part 1 here.
Sam rummaged through the clothes folded at the back of the wardrobe, garments sheâd fallen in love with on the shop rack but hated on herself. Where was it, where was itâŚ
Aha!
This silky summer top was so chic. Sophisticated lavender, not-quite-sheer fabric embroidered with flowers in the same shade. With her skin colouring the backdrop those hidden decorations were suddenly clear. It was lovely. But it never looked right on her.
Normally.
Joy bubbled in her throat and rattled against her diaphragm as she eased the shirt on - making sure nothing touched the sigils on her arm.
What to pair it with? Oh, of course, the loose green linen trousers! A loyal staple that was always quietly flattering. And flowers needed a good stem.
On a whim Sam pulled the sparkly golden belt from that disco costume ball out of a pile. With the flowing top almost hiding it the addition wasnât garish, right? The matching golden sandals probably were, but⌠whatever! She could change into sensible ones before leaving the house.
Though the ancient sheet of butterfly tattoos called to her, she decided to check the mirror first. Just in case, just in case, in case of what she didnât know, justâŚ
The moment she locked eyes with the Sam in the mirror, she realised; sheâd been afraid itâd be like those photos of her playing dress-up as a child. Absurd and clueless. A pitiful grasping impression of style.
But this⌠this was that blithe child seizing style with both hands.
Gazing back at her was a Sam who looked bold. Elegant. Whimsical. Grown-up and fem yet not womanly.
Oh, what she wouldnât give for one of those all-around mirror setups! For now she grabbed her phone and recorded herself twirling and posing and dipping curtsies until the blissful giggles left a cramp in her side. Then she dropped onto the bed and sat, feet swinging, gazing at the clothes scattered around.
Possibilities! Possibilities! Her mind raced, pairing each outfit with one of the pictures from the box of illusions.
That velvet blazer plus that not-quite-mannish form, sashaying into the beer garden to order a good pintâŚ
The sequinned bell-bottoms plus a form like this hitting the clubâŚ
And the one curvy form sheâd got might finally make that cocktail dress work. Maybe.
Doubt bubbled up at that intimidating concept. Sam puffed it aside and bounced up to grab her phone and keys. Oh, and sunglasses. Ready for a quick walk around the park.
âI really ought to put proper shoes on.â San sang under her breath as she skipped down the hall.
She was relieved and bitterly disappointed not to meet any of her neighbours on the way out. Another time.
For now she tilted her head back and let sunlight bathe her face. Took a deep breath, made heady by the potted flowers framing the door. Then she slipped on her sunglasses and a grin she didnât know she owned and sauntered towards the park.
Prompt was âFlightâ.
[Of course this is also continuing the euphoria from yesterday. That was the tentative lacing up of the shoes and bouncing in place, hardly able to believe the sensation. This is newfound belief and joy driving you out the door to run for the sheer excitement of it NOT HURTING WOO!!!!]