She sat down her, knitting for a moment, as her gaze landed on their wedding picture, which had been on the shelf he had built many years ago. When did she dust it last? She asked out loud. But it wasn't dust she saw; it was her tears falling that clouded the picture. She slowly got up and headed for the kitchen to make a cup of tea but stopped in front of the shelf, taking the picture in her hands and lovingly wiping away any dust with her apron. Back you go, she said to herself, wiping away the tears and picking up her knitting, remembering that day as if it was yesterday. She wore her mother's wedding dress, as did her daughter, with a few alterations. They married at her husband's family farm, and closing her eyes, she pictured it all. The tables filled with food, the smells of the farm, and the way he never seemed to stop smiling at her. She recalled a wooden dancing floor in the meadow where they danced the night away, never wanting the music to stop. She looked at the picture again, drying her eyes, knowing for certain there was no dust.
Mike 2024
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