Flash Fiction: Dried Roses

Hung downwards, from the rail in the wardrobe, my wife’s fresh-faced flowers hid behind her wedding veil. A tradition we learned from her grandmother. Our ‘something old’, to decorate our table in future anniversaries. “They dry prettier in the dark,” she murred as she latched the shutter closed. That first year she still saturated our … Continue reading Flash Fiction: Dried Roses

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