The sun rose slowly in the east, its rays piercing through the morning mist like spears of light.
As it climbed higher in the sky, it transformed the dark world into a vibrant tapestry of colors, painting the clouds with fiery oranges, pinks, and yellows.
In a quaint, cozy chapel nestled in a peaceful cemetery, soft instrumental music played in the background.
The center was occupied by three baskets. There were also three portraits placed next to them. Three people: a man in his middle years, a young woman, and a young girl.
…They all wore bright smiles on their faces.
Sat on one of the wooden benches of the chapel, a young man gazed at the pictures. His shoulders trembled.
There weren't many people in the chapel. Just three people. It was rather quiet.
The only sound that could be heard was the mumbled cries that were eventually made audible by the young man who was at the front.
