The Dress

As Lavinia careened for the sheets, The Spirit of her room saw an opportunity to take control. Lavinia was at shoulders depth in her wardrobe. Entirely bemused; pulled out tulle, buttons, and Victorian floral. Her able arms assiduously put together The Gown, her mind was null of lucidity.  Intricate attention made sure the tulle went with each specific floral pattern, each button was positioned in precise vertical alignment to the next layer of buttons. It was an endeavor sitting pretty for The Spirit. She lacked physical ability to decant The Gown on her own. The Spirit devilishly made Lavinia her subterfuge. The Gown was made, as was the completion of The Spirit's Stratagem.

"Remember to breathe, enliven yourself...."

A rush of lucidity flooded the footprints left of The Spirit. Lavinia's awareness alerted her towards something very alarming. On the bed, a faultless gown.