The Vintage Bridal Shop

This happens here.

There is a vintage bridal shop located a little ways down from our place. Its a little store front filled with many beautiful and elegant vintage bridal gowns. This boutique is every girls' dream. These dresses are transformed by a seamstress named Miranda, who owns the shop, and turns out to be one of the sweetest and most darling friends I have made in this new place.

That being said, I think someone is out to get her.

Just the other night, already past dark, she closed up shop and went to her car. A brief moment before she turned the door key, she saw a bright light getting closer. Some could say she was saved by a thread. It collided head-on into her car, and then drove off.

It was a fancy new car, driven by a fancy young woman. Upon deliberation, I have concluded that this is no accident. Someone is out to get Miranda.

A bridezilla.
A maid-of-honor from hell.
A threatened competitor.
A psychotic maniac.

Regardless, it has now become a dangerous world for this sweet sweet shopkeeper. In due time, justice will be served, and the perp wont look so good in lace satin doilies.