Up in Amy's bedroom is her childhood: Plasticine TARDIS, the Raggedy Doctor in blue, Amelia in her nightie; crayon TARDIS; puppets made of paper cups and clothespins. Little dollies of them both, hair grown wild. There is a suitcase full of pictures and poppets, full of dreams. While she lay in bed dreaming of Amelia, and her little red coat, smiling up into the sun, waiting for her Doctor, there in the closet was her wedding dress, waiting for tomorrow morning.
She grew up, like we all do. Broken or not, like we all are: She grew up. But he'll soon fix that.
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