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Weekly Contest #355
Father Joseph looked around the sea of black in front of him as he stepped towards the lectern. The polished oak at his fingertips was cold to the touch. The lingering smell of candle wax mingled with the scent of the lilies neatly lined up in brass pots along the aisle. He had completed these motions many times before, spoken the same words, watched the same reactions. But he could confidently say that this funeral service was unlike any other he had experienced. Sunlight streamed weakly between the rain clouds building up outside through t...
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