Gently clutching the unsullied yet well-worn handkerchief in her shaking hands, Angela stared at her father’s initials, lovingly engraved by her mother as a wedding gift. It was the only token of their existence she had with her. She would not get snot on it.
Idly, she fingered the soft crocheted lace edges, no longer able to see through the tears that periodically spilled over and down her face. Lost in thought, she didn’t realize there was someone watching until he plopped down in the sand beside her.
