The Perfect White Dress For The Girl From the Patchwork Village
<p>The windows were cracked into diamonds like stained glass. Still, the mid-sized girl stood by the smaller children as they pressed their noses against the broken pieces to see what the fuss was about. She was curious, too. A car had driven up in their village, white and shiny like a metal savior, and a few brave men went out to see what it was about.</p>
<p>Car noises were an odd occurrence. No one usually came to visit this small village of rag-tag houses hemmed in by unkempt hills. The sound of an engine pulling up was a signal to run behind the big hill in the back with her younger siblings and cousins.</p>
<p>They would all hide from the bright blue lights and the men in black with shiny badges until they went away. An eerie silence in their usually noisy town would always follow the flashing car’s departure.</p>
<p>But this time it was different.</p>
<p>There were no lights. Just a nicely dressed man with a strange accent, speaking friendly words. The adults were smiling.</p>
<p><em>And what was he pulling out of that bag?</em></p>
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