The Yangtze flowed fast...
... and the trading boats marched past. She stood in the cool night air, soft wind brushing her hair and her slender fingers gripped onto the rails. The black of her hair challended the night of nights. Her Shanghai wedding was closer than close.
The boat horns chopped a path through the misty river fog, as they lengthened their haste and brightened their lights to rush through the water and dock at the port. Their hulls filled with loads of ribbons and silk and fresh flowers and tiaras and food and candles and silver shoes.
She saw them speed past, she knew the moment could not last. Tomorrow at dawn, she will uncloak the past and dress for the next phase to last. Her wedding would be filled with branches of gifts. Her hands will spread the oil of love over the coming years as the moss moments grow on the Shanghai evening Yangtze river rails.
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