In The Light Of His Darkness

1- Julia Sinclair

It's the day today is the day in need to go and shop for some cloths for my interview that's tomorrow and if I buy the cloths tomorrow I would get late for the interview. I have to take Sharon with me because my style is so bad that I never bought formal cloths, its only because they just make me feel so uncomfortable all that time but now that I have to get to an interview to get selected as a secretary I really need to go there in formals because one thing I have learned from Sharon is that presentation is the most important thing. I got ready and was waiting for Sharon to come out as she takes the most time to get ready "Hey, are you ready to go?" I ask, peering into Sharon's room. 

"Almost!" Sharon calls back, a hint of laughter in her voice. "Just need to find the perfect shoes." Anticipation built as I waited for Sharon. While she always took a bit longer to get ready.

"Wow, you look amazing!" I say, genuinely impressed Sharon smiles. 

"Thanks! You too." 

The outfit looks great on you." "I can't believe how comfortable it is," I say, surprised. 

"Formal clothes usually feel so stiff." "That's the trick," Sharon says with a wink. "Find clothes that are well-made and fit you well, and you'll be surprised how comfortable they can be." 

"Thanks for the advice," I said, feeling a surge of confidence. "I'm glad I have you to help me with this." "Any time," Sharon replies. Our friendship stretched back to third grade, a bond built on countless shared experiences. 

Though we took different paths in college, mine in liberal arts and hers in modeling, our connection remained strong.

We arrived at her designer friend's shop, where a stunning outfit awaited me. The door creaked open, revealing a haven of creativity. Sunlight streamed through expansive windows, bathing the room in a warm glow. Polished oak floors gleamed underfoot, reflecting the soft hues of the dove-gray walls. In the center of the room stood a large mahogany table, its surface as smooth and inviting as a well-worn book. 

A single, exquisite orchid graced the table, its delicate purple petals a vibrant counterpoint to the neutral tones. Behind the table sat the designer, a woman with a shock of silver hair and eyes that sparkled with passion. She wore a tailored white pantsuit, the fabric flowing effortlessly with her every movement.

A single strand of pearls adorned her neck, the only hint of adornment needed to complete the picture of understated elegance. Around the room, mannequins stood like silent sentinels, each one showcasing a different creation. A flowing emerald gown shimmered with delicate beadwork, while a sharp black suit exuded an air of power and sophistication. 

Each piece was a testament to the designer's meticulous attention to detail and her unwavering commitment to her craft. Shelves lining the walls overflowed with bolts of fabric in a kaleidoscope of colors and textures. 

Silks and satins brushed against velvets and wools, creating a symphony of tactile delights. Sketches and photographs adorned the walls, offering glimpses into the designer's mind and the inspiration behind her work. 

The air itself buzzed with an intangible energy, a sense of possibility and creativity that hung heavy in the atmosphere. Each piece is unique, showcasing the designer's versatility and creativity. The clothes are carefully arranged according to color and style, creating a visually pleasing display.

A navy blue pencil skirt, crisp white button-down blouse, and tailored black blazer formed a sophisticated ensemble. Classic black 3 inch closed-toe heels and gold accessories completed the look. As I tried it on, the fabric embraced me, anticipating my every move.

I looked at Sharon and asked her how much it was, because all she did was tell the lady to pack it and then handed over her card. She didn't bother to ask me if she could pay. I peeked at the card machine and saw the amount was way above my ability to purchase. I looked into her eyes and said, "Sharon, you know I can't afford this. Please don't make me go into debt with you."

"You're not, Julia. It's just a small gift from me for your first interview," she replied.

"But—" she cut me off, staring directly into my eyes, her gaze intense and unwavering.

I just kept quiet until we reached her car as I hopped into the passenger seat of the Porsche 911, the car had a sleek, modern interior. The black leather felt smooth and inviting, and the contrasting stitching added a touch of elegance.

The clean lines of the dashboard and the well-organized controls gave the whole space a feeling of purpose and focus. Sharon slid into the driver's seat, a confident smile playing on her lips.

It was the first thing she bought when she collected the exact amount I vividly remember that for 3 years after that we survived on my small bits of saving and the salary that was coming from my infamous published books. Sharon's dream is to travel the world, so she's been saving up to make it happen. Even though we could afford a newer car, the old one still holds a special place in our hearts.

As the clock chimed eleven, we returned to the haven of our apartment. The city lights twinkled outside our windows, casting a warm glow on the cozy space.

Earlier, we had wandered the vibrant streets, indulging in a whirlwind of exploration and discovery. We unearthed treasures - not just material ones, but moments of shared laughter and unexpected delights.

Sharon, ever the thoughtful friend, orchestrated this pre-event ritual. She understood the power of a clear mind and a light heart, especially on the cusp of a demanding day. This was her way of ensuring I'd wake up refreshed, ready to face the challenges ahead with renewed energy and a spirit free of burdens.