dunyashas:

^{they’d taken her back to the farm and buried her beneath a cherry tree that was already beginning to flower. to jesper, it had seemed too pretty for such a sad day, and even now, seeing those pale pink flowers in a shop window or embroidered on a lady’s silks always put him in a melancholy mind. they took him back to the smell of fresh-turned earth, the wind whispering through the fields, his father’s trembling baritone singing a lonely kind of song, a kaelish air in words jesper didn’t understand.}

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