The glow of petal pink and glitter sparkle are faded under a Gaussian blur of dust and years. The petals’ edges have browned and curled a bit like the pages of an old well-loved book. The green leaves on the three stems brag a youth their brittle stiffness can’t defend.

We’ve been married nearly 16 years. But these are not the flowers from that day we joined together. Those are long gone, discarded in a move when I decided that our today was a fine testament to that yesterday.

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