Write About A Black Dress

Every girl needs a Little Black Dress.  It's a wardrobe staple.  Stylists will drone on and on about how you can dress it up for the office and then switch up your accessories for after work.  Every store stocks the LBD.  Oddly enough, most are short, ending anywhere from upper thigh to mid calf.  The LBD I needed was much harder to find.  It had to reach my ankles.  It needed to be loose fitting.  Long sleeves where also desired.  Most LBDs just didn't fit the bill.  For you see, my LBD would not be worn to the office or cocktail parties.   My LBD would be worn by a witch.

Yes, I suppose it is a bit of a stereotype.  But we witches are big on tradition and so black dresses are simply required.  I had spent the last two months looking for the perfect LBD and was getting nervous.  My first meeting of the SW Oregon Coven (Suburban Chapter) was only two weeks away and I had found nothing.  I was tempted to call Trina, my trainer, and ask for help but I balked.  This was a simple task.  I could call the moon's strength and hear whispers on the wind, surely I could locate one simple piece of clothing!  My roommate, Kat, came to my rescue.  I concocted a story about a boy and a first date.  She was more than happy to take me on a whirlwind shopping spree that spread over three counties and five malls.  She didn't exactly support my decision to purchase such a voluminous garment and to appease her I also picked up a hot red skirt that she claimed could be paired with anything.  I had no idea where or when I could wear it but it was easier to fork out the $59.99 than to try and argue.

When the night of the gathering arrived, I found myself standing in front of my mirror examining my ensemble.  The dress was perfect.  Long and dark with a full skirt that twirled beautifully.  I had slipped on my favorite pair of black leather Mary Janes and my mother's pendant.  The effect was perfect.  Sam sat next to me on the bed and watched my primping.  I wasn't sure but I thought I saw a gleam of approval in his feline eyes.  Sam had found me on my sixteenth birthday.  It was the day my mother died and I inherited her gift.  For the last four years, he had turned up on my bed every night.  While my outfit may have been vintage witch, Sam was not.  He was not black.  Instead, he was a beautiful white Persian with true blue eyes.  He had a very bad habit of leaving long white hair all over my bed and shredding my curtains but I didn't mind.  Trina believed my mother had sent him to watch over me.  I don't know if I believed that or not but sometimes, late a night, the idea gave me comfort when little else could.

"So Sam, do you think I'm ready for this?" I asked him without turning from the mirror.  Sam paused in his grooming and blinked at me three times.  Then he silently jumped off my bed and headed out my bedroom door.  With a deep breath and a last look in the mirror, I followed him out of my room and into the night.