The Faded Bouquet
The tie is silk. It is blue. It has a pattern of tiny, white birds. You bought it in 1998. You remember the shop. It smelled of stale coffee and cedar. The shopkeeper was a man with a missing tooth. He called it "good luck." You wore it to your first lecture. You wore it to the faculty meeting where they discussed your tenure. You wore it every day for ten years. Now the silk is thin. It is...
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