Here Cums - The Bride Dancing Bear [hot]

Here cums the bride—all five hundred pounds of grief and grace. The music stops. She bows, snout to the dirt. The groom removes his hat. A child throws a single rose.

She doesn’t walk. She lumbers. A massive silhouette against the setting sun, draped in a veil of torn lace and wilted daisies. Her fur is the color of muddy honey, matted with confetti and old champagne. A rusted tiara sits crooked between her small, dark eyes. here cums the bride dancing bear

And somewhere, in the darkening meadow, the real wedding guests—the foxes and the moths—begin to applaud. Here cums the bride—all five hundred pounds of

It lands on her nose. She doesn’t eat it. She holds it, ever so softly, between her teeth. The groom removes his hat

The bride dips. The groom stumbles. Together, they turn in a clumsy, heartbreaking circle.