He figured wearing his wedding suit was not a form of bad luck. In the crowd of seemingly confused attendees, he easily blended in with the costumed columns of black and white that weaved around the room. The same colors in the wedding photographs. Pinching the hem of his sleeves, which had lengthened greatly since the news, he saw no difference between the silk of his suit and the cotton of others. As strangers passed him with a cowardice familiarity, he let their sorrowful eyes rest their words on his shoulders. Like tradition, he was waiting at the end of aisle but she had arrived much earlier, carried in by four men.
