Buried Treasures/Buried Self

Pulling off her long skirt, she checked the entrance to the barn. The coast was still clear!

Out of a muddle of items, she located the britches and boots. These discards of her brother’s were holey and non-functional, but it wasn’t as if she would be allowed to actually DO anything while wearing them.

No, this was stolen time, for herself – and, hopefully, another.

She’d barely donned the flannel shirt, and stuffed blonde tresses underneath the found (if floppy) hat, when the knock came.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the back door expectantly, at last revealing her true self.