I’m standing on a chair in our storage room, on the hunt for something on the top shelf that I can no longer remember. But the next image is clear: I step down off the chair, and when I put my right foot on the ground and turn around to pivot and gain my balance on the ground again, the two-foot by three-foot pristine white box catches my eye, leaning against the wall.
My wedding dress, carefully pinned and preserved inside.
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