the little church

The Little Church.

The little church stands in a quiet side-road. There are quite a few large shade trees around the old place, and out in the drive. There is a neatly manicured stretch of grass that borders the yard. There is a few cars parked in front, as they are busy holding a service this late Friday afternoon. A small wedding ceremony.

The wind is rustling the green leaves in the trees, while inside the small gathering of people are awaiting the service. The sunlight of the disappearing sun falls in a brilliant shade of soft light from the western windows, over the interior of the small church. It imbues the small hall in a soft golden glow, that adds even more romance to the scene. The electric lights on the ceiling shine dimly in contrast, but will become the main source of light, once darkness falls.

The bride is a beautiful young woman with dark hair, whereas the man is older, and of lighter complexion. They stand in front of the altar and exchange their vows and rings in front of the priest, before taking the sacrament. When the short ceremony is over the man kisses his bride briefly, before they walk hand-in-hand down the isle towards the opening doors on the far side. The only music playing is a man playing a guitar softly in one of the back pews.

Once outside the door they find the small churchyard enveloped in darkness, and only dimly lit by a few electric lamps. A dove coo-es gently from the branches of a nearby tree, as they walk towards her car. The small gathering of people sees them off, and then return slowly and with a few further greetings, towards their own vehicles.

When all has gone, the little church lies once again silent and undisturbed in the quiet churchyard. The wind stirs the leaves in the trees softly, and scoots a few across the doorsteps of the little church. The doors are locked, and the place is dark and silent…