Wedding Day: (the dream is ended-this is the morning)
The day is very fine. Something--or Someone--has kept the weather calm and clear, and the blue sky arches over the small congregation by the lakeshore like a cathedral ceiling. Caspian and Lucy had decided, when he asked for her hand, that they would marry outside, by the lake and the forest and with only the blue and gold and green of the air and the water and the trees about them.
There are simple white chairs for the wedding guests, adorned with blue ribbons and tiny pink wild roses, but little else is arranged out on the grass, and the only movement comes from the arriving guests. It seems the bride and groom prefer it that way.
And the odd thing is--it's September.
And yet the air smells sweetly of lilies.
[Millitimed to approximately 3pm this afternoon. There are two subthreads: for the arrival of guests and the ceremony itself. Slowtime is a certainty, all weekend long. Have fun!]
There are simple white chairs for the wedding guests, adorned with blue ribbons and tiny pink wild roses, but little else is arranged out on the grass, and the only movement comes from the arriving guests. It seems the bride and groom prefer it that way.
And the odd thing is--it's September.
And yet the air smells sweetly of lilies.
[Millitimed to approximately 3pm this afternoon. There are two subthreads: for the arrival of guests and the ceremony itself. Slowtime is a certainty, all weekend long. Have fun!]