The sight of her dying bouquet was too much to contemplate. After the debacle at the church, she’d rushed home, wallowing in a bout of self pity, sadness, but eventually anger. Now, emotion spent, she longed for cool. Still wearing her wedding dress, she joined the spider’s webs that swung gently in the morning mist.
If you read the rules of Thursday Tales, you can submit stories of 55 to 777 words, then visit others who have joined in the fun!