The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-18 15:34:55 -

The Faded Bouquet

The rain did not fall so much as it settled, a grey mist that clung to the eaves of St. Jude’s Chapel and the blackthorn bushes that lined the path home. I stood at the gate, my hands trembling not from the chill, but from the weight of the silence I was about to break. In my arms, I held a bundle of linen, folded with a precision that felt sacred. Inside lay the white dress. It was not merely...

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