Houle Funeral Home |verified|

A draft brushed the back of his neck, though the windows were sealed shut.

Elias Houle was the third generation to run the business. He was a man of soft hands and a silence so profound it seemed to absorb the noise of the town. He was forty-five, with hair the color of dried tobacco and eyes that had seen more grief than the town priest. houle funeral home

That evening, as he was closing up the front parlor, the bell above the door chimed. A draft brushed the back of his neck,

He walked around the counter and took the woman’s hands. They were trembling. houle funeral home