“Thank you for letting me borrow this beautiful bonnet, Mrs. Wickersham,” Leona said, her thin fingers caressing the black velvet lining.
Mrs. Wickersham grabbed Leona’s gray, moth-eaten bonnet from the dresser and threw it in the bin. She pressed her lips taunt. “Black is the appropriate color for a funeral. At least you have a black bonnet now. I should have ordered a black dress for you to have on hand for such ominous occasions, but one never expects death. Attending two funerals so close together is quite unusual, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Mrs. Wickersham,” the girl replied.
-“The Good Shepherd”, my work-in-progress for NaNo 2016
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