She’s never been a dress wearer but says all right I will, if you promise to buy me a new dress. And shoes. Not hand-me-downs. Or home-made. The dress I mean. And I hate white. And it has to be dye-able. She’s dyed things before. Overalls. Her (half)brother’s old singlet. Her mother’s glory-days fake pearl-buttoned gloves. Tried and failed to paint brown shoes black. Left stains on the laundry lino in the shape of something haloed according to her mother. A money-spinner her (step)father said. No a miracle said her mother so we can’t mop or sweep the floor again.