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Ducking inside, escaping the thundershowers, you see her surrounded with color-mad displays of roses, tulips, lilies, mysterious flowers, blooming plants, and wildly-fragrant bouquets. “What are these?” you stupidly smile...

I follow the rank corpse, holding my breath, prepared to bury my son forevermore; a widow left with nothing, nothing but death, who prays, but doesn’t know what she’s...

December, the month of that most holy day, which makes Christian even the falling snow. (In whispers, the winds tell everything they know to the forest and the pebbles...