Claire awakens, beads of sweat sprinkled her face, like morning dew.
"Oh know, I've over slept," As she rushed off to the dress shop, where her dress was being tailored-made. "Designs by Claire", it was on the outskirts of town, in Blackpool,England; which she owned, tailored dress shop.
Good day to you Ms. Claire, "Mrs. Wallington greeted". The presence of an epigrammatic English 56 year old widow, face etched in kindness, with a hint of ageing. Gene, Mrs. Wallington, earned her keep as a seam-ster, shop Manager.
She was like a grand' mama, a very loving individual in Claire's life, growing up as a child.
There hanging was a re-embroidered gown, You will be the most beautiful bride in London, my dear. Claire's eyes shimmered in white crocheted lace, accented in gold pearls weaved around the neckline and sleeves, that just flowed over her beautiful olive skin of summer. A veil of strands of gold pearls, wrapped around a wreathed crown of sheer silk. Sandals of crocheted healed her feet.
Today is the rest of your life, you've waited anxiously, my child. I feel nervous and scared Gene, "Claire replied." .That's normal to get butterfly's in you're stomach Claire. But Mrs. Wallington, now hush child, Your about to marry the most prestigious bachelor in town.