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About Me:Hello my name is Anastassia Puttnam and I am one of the writers for kings news.I am always smiling and tremendously determined to do anything that is thrown at me. Furthermore people describe me as a quirky character with whacky ideas...that's why I now write these stories. However when I grow up I have always really wanted to be a doctor/heart surgeon, so thats my aim :)
The green dress
The dress had a diamond encrusted neck, with delicate frills which were made from silk, and circled the bottom of the emerald green dress. It was carefully placed on the finest hanger, and finally encased into the large glass cuboid. This stunning green dress casually sat inside the decapitated attic. An eerie silence engulfed any sense of life which attempted to enter the attic. Then without warning, an old haggard lady carefully climbed up the frail ladder, untwisted the attic door and climbed in. Coughing and spluttering as she arose to her feet, thick dust particles conjugated inside the numerous craters that bombarded her pale face. The wrinkles were so deep that when she washed her face in the morning, the water would still be slowly dripping out of them ten minutes later.
Slowly hobbling, with her mahogany stick tapping the floor, the glass box enticed her towards it until she eventually reached out and turned the key. The hinges creaked. Then, the now weary lady clutched the finest hanger from the large glass cuboid, slipped the woolen shawl from her hunched shoulders and hauled herself into the dress. After, she grabbed the handle of the closest mop and began to prance around, recalling every moment that the dress had hugged her figure. Pretending that the mop was her deceased husband, a smile appeared on her face. But suddenly a tear fell down her cheek. Consequently, she wiped the tear away and continued to waltz around the room. Soon the dust filled air and the high movement dance became too much. She stopped moving and sat onto the closest thing. Remembering the ballroom was big and filled with cheering people, the waxed floor made it effortless to glide along when you wore the perfect stilettos and everyone’s hair would be styled in to the perfect position with gallons of hairspray holding it into place. An array of music was played and every single one would make you feel a different emotion.
Later that evening, she took the dress round to her daughter’s house to give it to her eldest granddaughter, who was also striving in the same footsteps as the lady. While the lady and her daughter were catching up over a cup of tea, the granddaughter ran upstairs to try the dress on. As she slid the dress over her head a sense of maturity and excitement overwhelmed her and she started to dance like her grandmother once did. And although the dress dragged along the floor as she walked and kept sliding off of her shoulders, she still practiced in it every day. Until she was old enough, she would just have to wait until she could wear and show it off to her friends at a competition.