I’ve never been a traditional kinda girl. Didn’t want a white dress. And I certainly didn’t believe in old-fashioned rhymes about old, new, borrowed, and blue.
My aunt embroidered me a horseshoe to put into my bouquet (seashells, not flowers), but I threw it away.
Maybe I shouldn’t have done.
Laura Besley writes short fiction in the precious moments that her children are asleep. Her fiction has appeared online, in print and in various anthologies.