My sister and I are at a streamlined, chiffon-emblazoned boutique. She is standing on a box in front of two mirrors framed in rose-colored, raw silk that stretches from the ceiling to the floor, trying on wedding dresses. I sit behind her, avoiding my reflection for as long as I can, trying not to slump.

An attorney was taking a turn, In shabby habiliments drest; His coat it was shockingly worn, And the rust had invested his vest.