As her fingers very slowly scratched the seam of the couch,

She began to tell us a story

It was about a beautiful house

As it got moved,

It reminded her of a doll house on wheels

It was the day of the wedding,

And she was the flower girl

Have you ever noticed weddings?

How it is such a beautiful sight?

It was just like that

But she had to stay,

And pick up every rose pedal on the ground

Soon after the wedding, the civil war started

Then she started to tell us about the noises

The noises you would hear

People shouting,

“Stop the Blood!” or “Get rid of the blood quick!”

She starts talking about the house again

When one day at a certain moment

The old, stained cabinet door would open

It was one of those crazy ghost stories

That we heard quite often

Suddenly, the story got interrupted by the sound of construction

It was the loud sound of nails getting hammered

There was also the sound of a person cutting down a tree

Getting back to the story she began to tell us about her grandfather

About all the times he would develop pictures

There would be love letters waiting for him in that room

The story got interrupted again

It was the sound of the doorbell

Our mom was coming to pick us up

As we say our goodbyes we think of the story she just told us

As we look around Beaufort

We notice how this place is like a wedding year round

Sometimes it is hard to see that

But it lies right in front of our eyes

You just need to look beyond the weather

What makes Beaufort like a wedding is not the weather

But Beaufort itself.