My heart invited me to his wedding, due the first of the December wind.
The event was scheduled to be cold, so the awkward invitation advised us not to wear suits but coats instead. I didn’t own a coat nor did I have the money to buy one, but what could I do? Decline the occasion? I dared not consider anything less just than attending with a cold nose.
Celebration began at night. The wind must have made separate plans with the groom, for it brought along two unexpected visitors. The first was rowdy and intrusive–he blanketed the party with white powder and tangled itself into people’s hair. The second was arrogant and disapproving–she casted shadows upon the guests and listened in on everyone’s chat. No one minded, though. The bride frolicked too happily.
In sorrowful cheers we drank and rejoiced. With regretful toasts we commended and loved. For you see, we had not the right to ruin a marriage so ill-conceived as this. Tearful, we watched as the pearl rings were exchanged under the silent breath of the snow.
And just like that, it was over. A union never meant to be.
Exuberant mumbles echoed among the sheets of pale decorations. Sweet, sweet sorrow drenched the groom’s attitude underneath the still moon. Alas, my heart had married woe that night,… and it was the happiest day of her life.
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