Fantasy, short story

Sewing Magic – A Micro Story

The old sewing machine sat forgotten until a ghostly foot operated the treadle. The needle ran over moldy fabric stitching a fine hem, forty years too late. Rust stains marred the remnants of what might have become a gown. The white ruffles were aged by time to tan.

Still the machine sewed and invisible hands steered the fabric, adding ribbons here and crinoline there. As the machine worked it began to glow. And when the needle rose that final time, its light spilled down the gown making it sparkle for the new bride waiting downstairs.

For the Friday Fictioneers

 

 

26 thoughts on “Sewing Magic – A Micro Story”

  4. Oh wow Melinda! Love the eeriness of this story and how it’s not scary but actually quite lovely. There’s a tinge of melancholy that works nicely with the note of happiness at the end of the story. Well done! I hope that bride is happy with her dress 🙂

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