By Laura Nettles
The magic dust faded as the gown finished its transformation, it’s gossamer layers more intricate than the night sky.
Beyond the fence, a dressmaker was passing. The shimmering glow had attracted his attention, and he now beheld the most beautiful dress he had ever seen.
“Ma’am!” he cried out. “Please, ma’am! May I study your dress?” If he could incorporate some of the techniques utilized in this design, his honor would be restored and he would once again be the head dress maker for the queen.
Cinderella looked over to the poor man. His clothes were little better than her own had been not a minute before. Her heart went out to him. “I’m on my way to the ball, but you can study it while in the carriage.”
The man leapt over the hedge and kissed her hand. “My dear madam. You will be my redemption yet.”
Together they climbed into the gilded carriage, escorted by the footman that had once been mice. Their own uniforms glinted in the moonlight, catching the dressmaker’s eyes, but he focused once more on the blue perfection in front of him.
“Go ahead. Study away,” Cinderella said, holding her arms out so he could get a better view of the inseams.
The older man pulled out his glasses and began his inspection. It was full of mutterings of “ingenious,” and “simply splendid.”
Large wheels creaked over the cobblestone road leading to the magnificent castle. There were not many other carriages, but the local peasants not invited to the ball gawked in awe. They tried to crowd the carriage to make it stop, it’s glittering jewels just asking to be taken, but the coach driver was wise beyond his transformed brain and ran them over instead to protect his charge.
Bump. Bump. Bump. Cinderella and the dressmaker paid the abnormally bumpy road no mind.
They were rounding the corner to the long drive up to the castle gates when the dressmaker found it. The hem stitch and pinning held together by magic, irreplicable by human arts. There was no possible way for him to reproduce this dress without an unsightly seam for all to see. His hopes were dashed.
“My dear, it has been a pleasure to study your dress and all its intricacies. I see now that I was never meant to be able to construct such a design. I will never be able to compete with your Fairy Godmother. It was a doomed endeavor from the start. The queen will never want second best.” He kissed her hand once again.
And hung himself from the carriage door.