"With just a tiny seed
A garden soon may grow
With just a drop of water
A river soon may flow
For every dream that is ever dreamt
A wish may soon come true
So it is with life
And so it can be with you"
- Leslie C. Dobson
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WEDDINGS. THEY'RE HAPPY OCCASIONS FOR THE LOVING MATCH MADE IN THE HEAVENS ABOVE AND THE CELEBRATION OF THEIR UNION BELOW. Some may say, in the quiet moments of their thoughts, one often dream of a beautiful wedding day, a day adorned with ethereal blooms, cascading silken fabrics, and the softest symphony of laughter. Their hearts dance to the melody of anticipation, envisioning a tableau where love and devotion intertwine in a timeless waltz, each step a promise of everlasting unity. With eyes aglow with dreams of splendor and hearts brimming with hope, they dare to imagine a day when they envision themselves as the centre of a grandiose celebration, a vision of elegance and grace personified.
For the pessimists, however, perhaps we shall change our monologue to a more fitting take on how one views a wedding.
For them, weddings were certainly no better than funerals, not worse but never better. Weddings - the pinnacle of sophistication where one generously empties their pockets to throw a lavish soiree for a crowd of semi-familiar faces, all to witness two souls vow eternal devotion in a world where relationships seem as stable as a house of cards. But fear not, for there will be cake for all to enjoy, a sweet consolation prize for enduring the grand spectacle of love and commitment when you have no one but a bottle of Jack and an age old pillow to keep you company, I mean, if you are unhappy, why should the rest of the world have an liberty to happiness too?
Besides, it's not like it'll last long, but let us raise a glass anyway to the charming chaos of matrimony, a delightful blend of opulence and absurdity. All hail love and whatever.
Of course, we've all experienced these two contrasting views on weddings, but what if you were to witness a more darker take on such a blessed day. For many, a dream of a wedding can turn into a nightmare of a funeral in the blink of an eye. A paradox shifted into one and unfortunately, for Miss Savannah Hawthorne, that had been exactly what had happened on that fateful day in October.
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"DEBORAH YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN. IT'S ONLY BEEN A MINUTE" She assured the woman who shook her head
"Time is of the essence. You are late. Late. Late. Late. A maximim twenty minutes for your fitting then we must make our move and work upon your vows, I have doubts those have been done and for the historical society meeting? Your mother expects you on your best behaviour tonight." Savannah sighed and nodded as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her white dress was beautiful. It was made to fit her body like a glove.
Everything was perfect, from the fitting of the dress to the floral arrangements in the gardens on the estate. She was to marry the man she was supposedly destined to be with. They were born mere minutes apart and had spent most of their lives together, naturally the families considered it a fated match. But somehow, that sense of yearning, that deep gnawing in the pit of her stomach that something was going to go wrong was getting to her by the minute. Something was wrong
