The saleswoman, named Demona, handed Esther the dress. "I'm Demona. Just holler if you need me."
Esther traced the beaded fabric, then changed into the dress, feeling like she was stepping into another life. Glancing in the mirrors, she was astounded by the transformation. Despite her short hair, heavy makeup, and worn Reeboks, she looked beautiful. The dress accentuated her features, and she couldn't help but wonder how she had veered so far off her intended path.
“Oh, my,” Demona sighed, “it's perfect. No alterations needed. I've never seen anything fit so well off the rack.”
“I'll take it,” Esther said with a thick voice.
This dress, she thought, would be a lasting memory of a perfect day, a symbol of the woman she aspired to be. After writing a check for almost thirty-five hundred
