Old Man Sits At Bus Stop With Wedding Dress On His Lap, Then A Woman Finds Out Why

One Friday, when the bench was empty except for them, Caitlyn gathered the nerve to ask. “I hope it’s not too personal, but… why the dress?” Walter smiled, his eyes softening. He lifted it gently and began smoothing a wrinkle, like it was made of glass. “It was hers,” he said. “My Ellen’s. She never got to wear it.”