Tuesday, November 15

The witch's wedding

They say that when it rains with sun, the witches are getting married. But I know better. Three years ago on a sad October morning, I was doomed enough to be invited to a fall wedding. I knew not the bride nor groom, but I was the friend of a friend of the bride.

It was an outdoor wedding. All was set on a free lying field. The blood-red chairs were primly set in rows amongst the prickly brown weeds. Most guests were dressed in drab black clothing, but others sported ebony dresses or raven colored clothes. The witch-bride wore a bone-white dress.

When the ceremony was about to begin, all were called to order with the sound of a mournful howl let out by a mangly wolf that had been caged and tethered for the occasion.

"We are gathered here today, to witness the amalgamation of Miss Grendaline Wales and Mr. Atanacio Menacioso," proclaimed a pallid and starved looking man of enormous stature.

The groom, Mr. Menacioso barred a grin towards his soon-to-be witch wife. Miss Wales shot back a bleary stare.

"Do you, Miss Gredaline Wales, not dare to repudiate the advances of Mr. Atanacio Menacioso?"

"I certainly do not," Miss Wales breathlessly whispered.

"Do you, Mr. Atanacio Menacioso, agree upon suffering the burden of a conjugal relationship with Miss Grendaline Wales?"

"Every organ in my body consents to this union." Mr. Menacioso declared.

"It is then my obligation to pronounce you Man and strife-- uh, I mean, Man and Wife."

Upon that definitive statement made by the wedding officiant, the wind began to blow. It blew in huge billowy gusts that came in from from the warm south. It blew and made the prairie dust rise along with it. Soon the wedding party was enveloped in a cloud of grey dust. The guests began to scatter and the wedding was disbanded.

Only the witch remained, Mrs. Menacioso. She ruefully glanced about at the remains of her festivities, then went to join her husband in private celebration.