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Writer: Jade Miller
Photographer: Luna Lark
Model: Angelica Karns
___ She stands in front of the house, curious and apprehensive, the sunlight bearing down on her black lace covered shoulders. She had brought her parasol, but it hangs loosely by her side, essentially forgotten. She could imagine the splendor, despite how run down the house seemed now with its blacked out windows and the crack down the front door. The brick face had faded from red to white in some places, but oh, how beautiful it must have been. How decadent the gardens and the parties and the people must have been in their finest.
She takes a brief glance over her shoulder to make sure no one is watching as she approaches the house. She just wants to touch the brick, feel the wood of the steps beneath her feet, understand how her ancestors lived, if even for a moment. She had dressed in one of her best dresses in the morning, feeling a bit foolish at the time, but now, it felt right and like she was honoring those who needed to be honored, the ones who felt forgotten. She may be coming to the party a few generations behind schedule, but being fashionably late is always the height of sophistication.