Seraphina closed her hymnbook and carefully replaced it, taking care to avoid any noise that would obscure the ethereal sounds coming from the choir loft. She took her seat with the permission granted by the Bishop and folded her daintily gloved hands. The voices of the cloistered and concealed nuns seemed to float far above, borne aloft on the heavily scented air of the basilica. 
'Someday,' her heart whispered silently.

Buy Seraphina's dainty gloves here.

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