The Bride

A sound echoes through the church hall — a faint, polite cough. We see that a figure has appeared beside the altar: a young man in morning dress, a smile on his face.

The young woman straightens, her face ablaze with sudden hope. “Oh! Oh, but you have come!”

“Yes, my sweet!” cries the groom. “Forgive me; I was foolishly waylaid. Now I see that my concerns are for naught. Let us at last be one!”

Clasping one another and speaking silent vows, they kiss. As their phantom lips meet, there is a distant sound of bells — the faintest glimmer of petals in the air. Then the happy couple is gone, and the church is empty once more.