The Woman Who Never Married (First Written 18 January 2012)

She walked to the Pretty In Pink dress shop every morning. She never went through the door, but stopped short on the pavement outside. Eyes wide, she'd stand and gasp at the dress in the window. A placard at the foot of the white dress informed in fancy lettering; 'Wedding Dress of the Year'. The woman wouldn't care if it was the worst selling dress of the century; she had fallen in love with it months ago.

The staff watched the woman stand at the window every morning, lingering for ten minutes, before she bustled off. They never asked her if she wanted help, or whether she was interested in buying the dress, and only speculated she was planning a wedding. One day the woman walked into the shop, bursting with excitement. “I would love to purchase the Wedding Dress of the Year.” She spoke with her hands and didn't wait to try the dress on; she said she knew her perfect size.

The woman took her prized dress home, the dress every woman would wish to wear on her wedding day. She hung the dress up on her wardrobe door, and stroked the silk lovingly. She slid open a drawer and opened a tiny box, putting it beside the dress. She opened a shoe box from under her bed and carefully placed the white shoes beneath the dress. She took out the shimmering ring from the tiny box and slid it onto her finger. On the dresser was a framed photograph of a man, cheerful and relaxed, laid on a bright towel on a beach. A tear came to her eye as she smiled at the picture of her dead fiance and whispered; “We never made it to the wedding in life, but you will always be my husband.”

The woman wrapped the dress up in a plastic cover and kept it hidden away. She wrapped the shoes in tissue paper and kept them hidden away under her bed. But she kept the ring on her finger, on show forever, and she always called herself 'Mrs' if she was ever asked.