Nearly two months after our wedding day, I finally soak our whites. Work at the bright purple stains that had dropped on the Bohemian’s shirt from the surrounding java plum trees. Gently massage the dust and grass out of the hem of my dress.

Hanging to dry, side by side in our living room, they seem to have some life left inside the fabric.

This pair seems happy. Shoulders rubbing, his sleeve resting at her hip. Formal wear, yes, but these threads are relaxed. Just hanging out…but they’re ready.

Ready for what occasion, I don’t know. The Bohemian’s practical, he’ll wear that shirt again. Me, I love that dress, but I’m not sure when I’ll find an instance when I could slide it on again.

Tying up more loose ends from our wedding day. His shirt goes in the closet with everyday wear. My dress, it’s zipped up tight in its own special bag, still scented in rose and lavender sachets.

Preserving the remnants while we stitch new days. As usual, I’ll be following the Thread.