Epilogue-

There once was a forgotten dress shop at the end of a forgotten lane, filled with forgotten treasures and a forgotten master. There once was. Because someone remembered.

Epilogue

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rain was hitting the window of the dress shop hard as the dressmaker adjusted his spectacle before looking back at the intricately detailed gold dress in his hands. Milky light filtered through the glass and reflected back off the tiny jewels that sprinkled the hem of the dress he was working on. It was a master piece. A diamond of a dress mystro long forgotten.

The dressmaker placed it down carefully and ran his worn hands over its shimmering fabric. He closed his eyes and traced a long finger across the lace rim like a blind man trying to un-code the mystery of an object. A lone tear pressed out of his closed eyes and fell down his contoured face, leaving a single shining break through his desert-like complexion.

A sudden sound startled him. The dressmaker quickly snapped out of his dazed trance, trying to find what had disturbed the dust. All that met him was his usual small shop: The dark mahogany shelves filled with decades’ worth of untouched books that lined the walls of the room, sucking out any light that penetrated the frothed glass. The delicate fabrics spilling out of their complexly carved boxes, like waterfalls frozen in time. The old weather-beaten white leather manikins that stood naked in the shop window, their phantom smiles long disappeared.

And the black shadow leaning against the doorframe.

The dress maker reached for his craft knife under the table, not taking his eye off the unannounced and unidentified figure.

“Hello, can I help you?”

His composed voice rasped out of his throat with disuse as he eyed the stranger wearily. The figure appeared to brush his nails lazily before shifting his head and looking back at the dress maker.

“I don’t know, can you?”

The figure approached him, his feet not making a sound across the dark, squeaky floorboards. Not once did the stray strands of light penetrate his dark façade.

Pulling the light fabric off the desk, the dress maker carefully covered its sight with his frail body. He had worked too long to lose at this point.

“What do you want? Are you playing games with me, boy?”

The dress maker quivered slightly as he watched as his words fell and disappeared into the still air in between them. And he waited.

The stranger smiled at him slowly, letting the anticipation mature in into the dust.

“Why would I play games with you?”

And the small dress shop at the end of the quiet lane, filled with treasures long forgotten and secrets long lost, became still once again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

do you think the sentences are too long? Or is there a way I can make it more captivating without losing the description? I was experimenting with adding more descriptive language although I don't think I'll carry on like this throughout the whole book...