The Bride by Zia Garcia
The lighthouse had not always been a lighthouse. Once it had been a beautiful bride but now she stood up tall and still, shimmering against the sky, her body clad in her white dress, silky smooth.
The bride stared out to sea with her one yellow eye, slowly searching for her groom. She had stood there for so long that her feet had become part of the rocks and sand that she stood on, attaching her to the ground forever.
It was a beautiful sunset. The sky was rosy pink, the wishing star was shining above and a cool breeze was gently blowing. The bride wished that her dress would swish in the breeze but she had stood there for so long waiting for her groom that her dress had become stiff and moulded to her body. Continue reading