A little background for Miranda, ( couldn't help myself ) and thank you for your encouragements, they made me smile :)

Chapter 2

Miranda looked at her long sleek arms and she tried to memorize the order of her movements, how she manipulated the fabric with wonderful dexterity, how she ran her delicate fingers over the stitches, seeking for imperfections. The sewing machine glowed in the light of sunset that came through the large window of the tailor shop and it made a soft clacking noise in a soothing cadence. The girl said something in her dulcet tones and she smiled from the corner of her beautiful lips, her warm hazel eyes reflecting the soft filtered light. She laughed and shook her wavy blonde hair. Miranda could see herself in the mirror behind her, the thin frame, the fiery locks, the pale skin and the piercing blue eyes shimmering with youth and raw innocence; she wore a simple blue sundress and her hair fell freely on her shoulders. The girl turned to face Miranda and she took her hand gingerly seeking her gaze. She seemed so open, so honest and warm, her lashes reflected sunny streaks on her beautiful complexion.

Miranda felt safe and peaceful, warmth filling her chest and encompassing them both like a burning halo that spread along with the dancing particles of dust.

Miranda woke up in a whirlwind of emotions, she stood at the edge of the bed, rubbed her eyes and looked around the room, the light was still dim she glanced at the clock beside the bed, it was 6.45 am.

She still basked in the atmosphere of her dream, she was sure she hadn't felt like this for over 20 years, she didn't even think about her, Isabella. Where was she now? She thought she was long-forgotten and the years had dulled those paths she used to tread with her heart and her mind.

That's when she used to love and know herself, but who knew that person? Miriam Princhek, the young Jewish girl, who was true to her heart and wanted to conquer the world; she was happy to be a seamstress just because she learned everything from someone she used to adore. Isabella guided her through every step, always pushing her and bringing out her skill and her passion.

She learned everything very fast, but she didn't know how to live with a guarded heart, she didn't see the purpose back then. To her father she was an odd child who drew beautifully, but he failed to see the practical side of this particular habit. She drew dresses, clothes that looked exquisite and expensive, those garments weren't meant for people like them.

He used to laugh and mock her silly drawings, always urging her to find a man of means to provide for her. She was incapable and poorly adapted, with her menacing ridiculous hands she couldn't possibly master tailoring beyond sock patching and handkerchiefs.

Every morning she opened the tailor shop and waited for Isabella, she stocked the shelves with beautiful fabrics and made sure the spools of sewing were ordered by the shade of their colour, just how she liked. She stood for hours revising her notes and finishing the last touches of some dresses Isabella left the night before.

When the shopkeeper, Mrs. Tilly, arrived, she was already seeking for another seamstress. Isabella was gone and without a word.

"But where is she? Why isn't she coming?" Miranda gasped.

Mrs. Tilly looked at her through her tiny spectacles and sighed knowingly "She is to be married, dear. Her parents had found a suitor for her"

She put aside her tailoring meter and gazed at Miranda. She knew about their love, it grew before her very eyes, but she couldn't and wouldn't stop it, it was the most pure, unadulterated affection she'd ever seen.

Miranda felt as if she had been stung with a thousand needles, she stood on the stool beside the sewing machine and the unfamiliar tears of heartbreak flooded her vision. Mrs. Tilly strode through the shop and locked the door, she turned to Miranda and snatched her hands that were covering her face.

"Listen to me dear, she is gone and she is not coming back" Mrs. Tilly spoke in a tone Miranda had never heard before. Her usual collected demeanor was lost and she sounded disappointed and angry.

"Miriam, sometimes love is overcome by fear…" Mrs. Tilly paused and frowned as is if searching for the right words, she did want to comfort Miranda but she knew that there was nothing she could do to bring her solace.

"I am an old woman, Miriam and I am hardly an expert at these matters, but know this, what you are feeling right now is the only evidence you need to know how wonderful and brave you heart is." She took off her glasses, and pointed her green sharp gaze at Miranda,"It may quiver, bend or even shatter right now, but you will live through this, do you understand me? I will not let you lose yourself, there is such a beautiful soul inside you, and there are a great deal of things out there that await to stain it or shred it into pieces, Miriam, the choices you make will be the outcome on that canvas. Make them last and make them beautiful". Mrs. Tilly's voice softened and she still held Miranda's hands

"Whatever she chose to leave behind and whatever the reason, it's just that - a choice and you'll always have one as well. Now you choose for yourself, dear, there is nothing to hold you back here any longer."

And she did go, she left for France with little money and faith she had left, the moment Miranda stepped into that train, Miriam Princhek was left on the platform barefoot in a dowdy-looking dress, the reflection of her misery and heartbreak waving at her but she was not going to wave back. Miriam Princhek was not coming with her.

Miranda jumped at the screeching sound of the alarm clock, it was 7.00 am, she chastised herself, Miranda Priestly didn't do spacing out and introspection, she scoffed lightly and began her morning routine.