Willow Ridge Descriptive Writing

“I can’t believe it,” I said, shaking my head “I still can’t believe that everything worked out in our favor.”
Samaya groaned. “For the fifth, and final time — believe it. If I were in Crimson Heights right now, I wouldn’t be wasting the last days of summer stuffing myself into this plaid napkin you call a skirt.”
As I contemplated the unforeseen auspiciousness of my reunion with my best friends, I settled into the spongy sofa at Dorothea’s Darling Boutique. Though more of a clubhouse for trendy housewives than an upscale specialty shop, Dorothea catered to the exacting tastes of Willow Ridge’s aspiring and flourishing fashion aficionadas. A frazzled, yet content Dorothea scurried about with six sweater dresses draped across each arm and four hangers with fitted blouses and khakis in each hand, as a spirited string and flute melody from the gramophone on the counter drifted across the busy salon. The lively and attentive storekeeper flitted among ten clusters of women with children as they compiled their daughters’ wardrobes for the upcoming school year.
With the lithe cross of my slender, brown legs, I awaited the emergence of either of my friends from their stalls. From the furthest

Upon consulting Chloe about said book, we learned that it requested our acceptance of a mission. Samaya and I had a disastrous fight, the result of which estranged us for the majority of July. Thankfully, Chloe reunited us at the end of the month, and we concluded the summer by spending the first two weeks of August reconciling and deepening our bonds from the month of June, while also agreeing to work on the aforementioned book. Although the whole ordeal sounded ridiculously melodramatic, riddled with perplexing girly complications, I suspect the mere task of accepting a quest to destroy evil using a magical book would drive most people to behave more theatrical than