“Oh what a nice look that is.” Anna said, carrying her seven months old son in hand while dressed in an Irish cloth.

“Thanks.” Reene glanced at herself in the mirror. The spaghetti handle gown, barely covering her nipples and too short, she could see her spiderman underwear.

“Is this what you wear to your wedding? That's sad.” Reene's childhood dream cat sauntered in, fur a beautiful dark gold with eyes brighter than light and size five foot nine. “Now dear, it is time.”

...