VOWS

  The first time I saw her figure levitating over the lifeless bog I thought I'd entered a dream. The pale morning mists coiled around the black, crooked stumps of trees that rose like pillars of death... charcoal coloured columns from some long abandoned temple of the night. 

  She wore only white and her head tilted forward. Those long, dark locks tumbled down, a chaotic mess of hair, flowing free and untamed. I'll always remember the sight of her and that first time. Ravens cawed, a malevolent wave crashing into the ears. Yet there was nothing sinister about her presence. She clutched something in her hands; she focused upon the item and her attention did not yield. 

  Collapsing on to my knees then, I felt tired and drained. I took the glasses off of my face and placed them down, half expecting her to vanish from view. 

  The sun was a miraculous white orb in a vast and desolate sky.

  Time seemed to be a spent force and motion became cumbersome as everything came to a quiet stand still - still her features were hidden from view. I wanted to call her, to grab her attention in some way and yet I felt this deep and overwhelming sensation that if she cast her eyes in my direction I would submit to a melancholy the likes of which I could barely fathom. 

  The light that managed to pierce the thin layer of clouds glistened against the gold of my ring, that piece of cold, dead metal wrapped around my finger. It touched the cross that hung from my neck. A solemn white light. 

 ***

  "I have known you since we were young. And I have seen you age and I have seen you diligently build yourself up with each year that has passed. It's clichéd, I know, but you (more than anyone I have ever known) have blossomed. You were a green shoot, steadily rising from the earth and I stand here today beside petals of beauty. You are delicate and soft. Your fragrance fills my mind whenever you are absent for too long. You dance in the wind and captivate me with your movements." 

 ***

  Only time will tell what becomes of you. 

  It became evident. The figure was studying the face of a pocket watch and the irrevocable, unrelenting thrusts of the black hands as they hoisted themselves up and crashed down. Those hands spoke a language of their own. They knew the secrets of a universe full of cosmic energy, dwindling and dying. 

  The sound of distant church bells ringing reached through the thick air. Each gong of the bell sounded like the beat of some giant demigod's heart. Tears formed in my eyes. 

  Giant storm clouds began to swirl and stir in the sky above. The white orb made a speedy retreat and my cross, my ring, both began to weep with the rain washing down from the heavens. "It is OK." A humming sound emanated from the figure, soft and sweet, an unexpected harmony at odds with the vicious rain, obliviously cascading and crashing all around. 

  The tune turned the chill of my skin (cold from the biting rain) into a warm sensation. It nurtured and steadied me, pulling me out of my momentary despondency. "You forgive me?" 

  Disrupting drops of water seemed to displace her. She was beginning to break away and dissolve, merging with the bog to become the nothingness which physics demanded she should be. I never saw those features of hers but I'll remember that faint hum and the details of her dress - simple and eloquent. And the way she tossed the bouquet. And the way her hands carefully navigated the keys of a piano. 

  The pocket watch stops. 

  "There was never anything to forgive."