Saturday, February 1, 2014

THE ROBBER BRIDE

Father wants me to marry. I am inconsolable with worry. My heart palpates requiems of irretrievability as the prospect of marriage looms nearer. And someone has agreed to marry me, a rather dubious young man. I look askance at his narrow set eyes, i shudder in revulsion at the thought of proximity to him. There's something sly, furtive, underhand about him and i find that disagreeable. Were these imperfections or rather vices solely my own prejudices i would have reconsidered such a judgment but as it is my being, who i am, inclines and orients me in such a direction that men become, ipso facto, loathsome as subjects of desire.

He directed me to his house deep in the forest. I acquiesced, having no choice in the matter. He had scattered ashes but i took peas with me, suspecting the putative guilelessness of his spurious charm. The woods, the dark forest suffuse me with premonitory forebodings. A feeling of apocalyptic disaster looms and i am unable to relinquish the vertiginousness it induces in me. But i trudge on, hoping that my fears would be baseless and my anxieties unfounded.

The moment i reach the house i see an old woman. Her  hair gleams snowily white. Finely wrought, filigree webbed but at a distance imperceptible wrinkles striate her. Her lips, gleaming red in the moonlight exude significations of ripeness. Her dark dress, studded with broken mirrors gleams refractory slivers of light in all directions. She tells me about how the robbers would come and annihilate me and roast me and eat me up. She tells me she can save me. I hide behind a barrel. The robbers carry another girl with them whom they proceed to eviscerate and consume with undisguised relish. They had , before consuming her, seen a ring on her finger which they cut and the finger flew into my lap. Too tired to search they go to sleep, under the soporific effect of the sleeping draught the old woman insidiously inveigles into their tankards.

While these nocturnal murderers slumber unbeknownst we escape. We traverse the miles i had come from, we retrace and retract the steps i took to reach this inferno. The peas guide us back. I reach my village and tell my father the entire story, a verbatim account of everything that occurred. My father takes the old woman's gnarled hand and kisses her. 'You have saved me daughter' says he 'You may do with her as you wish'. The old woman slips out the ring from the dead girl's cut finger and fits it to the palm of my hand. We kiss and tie the knot. 

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