The Bride

Towards dusk, the pustulant marsh gives way to strange, waterlogged ruins: the only remnants of a village which once stood here. Sighting a half-sunken church among the ruins, we wedge open its waterlogged doors in the hope of shelter. But pacing back and forth under the pulpit, we instead see a young woman in a pale dress.

"Oh! Where is he?" sighs the woman. Then, with a startled noise, she sees us in the doorway. "You there! Travellers? Have you seen my betrothed? He said that he would meet me here, but it has been hours at least!”

We have not the heart to explain that it has been much longer than a few hours. But perhaps we can break the crueler truth: that this bride’s groom is never going to come at all.