My Dress for Grandma

In our sprawling nine-story apartment building lived a melancholy old woman. She was utterly alone; her grandson had passed away. I was probably the only soul around who had a soft spot for her, and the feeling was entirely mutual. She was relentlessly bullied by a coven of ancient neighbors who perpetually staked out the bench by the front entrance. That day, she gave me a call:

"The hyenas are whispering about you again! Gossiping about your outfits and where you're going! Put on something absolutely spectacular so those old hags die of envy, and strut right past them! Let them choke on it!"

Alright then, I thought. It was the perfect excuse to take my newly sewn masterpiece out for a spin.

And right on cue, the downstairs tribunal bench was packed with my "most devoted friends." Oh, yes... at the sight of my shimmering, golden gown, their jaws practically unhinged. The absolute sensation of the season.

I meant to head upstairs to my co-conspirator to make her day, but suddenly she marched out the doors herself. Looking utterly triumphant, right in front of the enemy lines, she began showering me with compliments. It takes so incredibly little to make a human being happy. Sometimes, it’s just a new dress. Even someone else’s.

Emotions were running at an absolute fever pitch that day: Grandma was bursting with vindication, her rivals were seething with bitter spite, I was sparkling with pure joy, and even the random passersby couldn't help but smile in satisfaction. Total victory!

Nelli Verkhovska PhD in Psychology For more on alternative relationships, check out my YouTube channel