The Dress (A Short Story. Hurrah!)

First: Mood music~

Mysterious Chocolate - Yamashita Kousuke

Now: Story time.

Shirley Thunderson stood outside the shop window, gazing dreamily up at what she could only describe as aesthetic perfection. Bathed in inefficient but flattering incandescent light was a strapless dress with a pink tulle bottom and poly organza top. To Shirley, nothing in the world mattered save this dress. She forgot her name, her family, her work, and even her location whenever she found herself in its presence, which happened to be Monday through Friday evenings as she walked home from her waitressing job at a small cafe.

Shirley knew she could not afford the dress on her pitiful income. Goodness knows, she could not even afford to stay alive as it was. All of her monthly income went to paying rent, which meant she had nothing for anything else, especially not clothing. When she was hungry, Shirley would sneak food scraps as she cleared tables at the cafe and store them in her work cubby behind the small kitchen, squirrel-style. Nobody knew Shirley was having such financial trouble, as she dressed well and never complained, but the poor thing was in dire straights.

On this fateful night, and despite her alarming lack of income, Shirley found herself drifting into the shop that housed her sartorial idol. Once inside, she shuffled towards the rack, and right there was the dress, beckoning to her. In spite of her better judgment, she saw her hand drifting up, and in an act of complete folly, she touched it. Ah, bliss! The fabric, the stitching, the weight, the texture... it all screamed quality and careful, thoughtful design. Shirley's reason began to crumble. Her fingers flipped out the tag. Size zero. Just her size. Alas, her alarming lack of food had made her perfect for expensive, fashionable clothing. Before she knew it, Shirley was making a b-line for the dressing room, slipping off her clothes, and stepping into the dress. Staring into the mirror, wide-eyed, Shirley knew that she had gone past the point of no return. The dress could not go off. She would not let it happen. She needed this dress- at all costs- and she needed it now.

Still wearing the fluffy pink masterpiece, she exited the dressing room and glided to the counter. She looked amazing. If you or I were to walk into the store at this moment, we would think that Shirley was a model, or some famous heiress out for an impulse buy. The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow as she approached. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I need this dress," Sophie said, "but I have no money, and no possessions of real value. I work in the cafe up the street, and only make enough to pay rent. But I need this dress, you see. I just do. Please."

There was a long pause as the saleswoman behind the counter slowly blinked, looking into Shirley's eyes with an expression that neither you, I, nor Shirley could comprehend. "I will give you this dress," she replied at length, "but on one condition. You give me your soul."

"Yes." Shirley answered instantly and with all her heart. And that was the end, for from that moment on, Sophie had no soul.

It would be difficult to say what was done with Shirley's soul, because both she, and the saleswoman were never seen again. In fact, the saleswoman in the shop that night was not an employee, and her presence there has remained a mystery, despite many subsequent police investigations. All that was left of the strange encounter was Shirley's wallet, completely devoid of everything save some empty coffee filters.