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nobody knows this little rose —
it might a pilgrim be
did I not take it from the ways
and lift it up to thee.
only a bee will miss it —
only a butterfly,
hastening from far journey —
on its breast to lie —
only a bird will wonder —
only a breeze will sigh —
ah little rose — how easy
for such as thee to die! -Emily Dickinson

only a bee will miss it —only a butterfly,hastening from far journey —on its breast to lie —only a bird will wonder —only a breeze will sigh —ah little rose — how easyfor such as thee to die! -Emily Dickinson

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the big day




No one seemed to care that the bride had broken down in the middle of her living room the day before her wedding. The date was set, and guests were arriving just as scheduled. The rehearsal dinner was later that night, and ran smoothly without hitch.

The morning of, Angeline sat in a large wicker chair in front of her room's vanity, silent as her cousins, mother, and aunt ran around ragged with different sorts of products and clothes. She didn't move as her was pulled and curled in different hairstyles, and didn't talk when her aunt gossiped about her budding friendship with Jordan's mother.

"Angie dear, this lip will look so good on you!"

Her Aunt Kim holds up a dark shade of pink, shaking it around in a slight teasing manner. An immediate squabble starts between her and a cousin, side eye and snarky comments are thrown. Rolling her eyes, Angeline picks up a light pink shade near her hand.

"I like this one."

The chatter abruptly stops, and all eyes are shifted towards the girl in the chair. Rolling the small tube between her fingers, she gave a small smile into the mirror.

"Are you sure?"

A hand is placed on Angeline's shoulder. Immediately recognizing it, Angeline turned to face her mother. The dark-haired woman smiled softly and brushed her hand over the girl's cheek, her soft fingers lightly tracing over her skin. Giving a barely noticeable nod, Angeline turns back to the mirror and returns back to staring at nothing.

"Let me take care of the rest Kimberly. It's not often that a woman whisks her daughter off to another family."

As everyone begins to trail out of the room, Angeline's mother begins to trail her hand up the girl's arm, rubbing softly. The girl closes her eyes, and begins to feel the burning of tears return to her eyes. Her mom moves her hand off the girl shoulder, and pulls at the delicately made curls that rest against Angeline's head.

"I'm so proud of you honey."

Angeline shakes her head as she feels the hands of her mother dusting her face, her eyes still shut. She begins to squeeze them tighter as the lipstick is placed on her lips.

rain and roses - steven meeksWhere stories live. Discover now