Red Dress

There's a red dress inside a closet in Sara's home in her hometown.
The red dress is kept in excellent condition and still looks vibrantly red and beautiful even though it has been handed down through the generations to this day.
Sara once asked about the origin of the dress. Her mother cryptically replied: "This dress is our homeland."
The homeland her mother spoke of is a beautiful place with stunning mountains and rivers. Desert roses bloom everywhere there, and the people there live in caravans, each person busy with their own business during the day, and gather together at night to chat, party, sing, and dance around the campfire all year round.
She wanted to see her homeland with her own eyes and see the desert roses that have only bloomed in her dreams.
It's a pity that her mother doesn't know the whereabouts of their homeland as her mother heard about it from her grandmother, and her grandmother also heard about it from the previous generation... They have left the caravans and taken root in this land for too long that they have long forgotten their way home.
The only things their homeland has left these women are ethereal music, passionate dance, and this bright red dress.
"Old man, play your guitar once in a while. Don't let it get rusty like you. Come on, play something for my dear granddaughter!"
Nostalgia is inevitably evoked whenever stories of their homeland are mentioned. For Sara's family, the best way for them to express their nostalgia is to have an impromptu dance.
Her grandmother would put on the red dress and tell her husband to hurry up. Although her grandfather would tease her by reminding her not to sprain anything like last time, he would still grab his acoustic guitar and look affectionately at his wife.
This red dress seems to have an unusual magic power. Wearing it makes her grandmother look as radiant as she was in her youth and just as energetic. The evidence of this is the loud tapping on the ground as she dances a tap dance.
This is Sara's favorite moment. The sound of the guitar and the laughter of her family have become one, and the dance that started off as a nostalgic dance fills the quiet night with liveliness. She believes that her family enjoys the warmth of the moment as much as she does. After all, even her quiet and dull father will start playing the harmonica with alcohol-fueled courage.
She would clap her hands as her grandfather sings in a low voice, and the floating patch of red in front of her would look strangely familiar.
"Oh...! It's a desert rose!"