Witnesses

It was clear and shining, even at half a football field away.
The radiance surrounded those two young women, one
dark, one pale—Rose Red and Snow White with cropped
hair—and it drew my heart to theirs. My friend nudged
me, so we slowed as we approached them, seeing and
understanding without being told what had happened—
we’d witnessed a betrothal. “She said YES!” beamed the
blonde, while her darker lover, with the blank shy smile
of someone dazed by their own life, showed us the ring.
My friend offered to take their photo; fumbling for the
phone, the fair-haired one handed it to us, stepped back,
and, snug alongside her fiancée, she faced her witnesses,
faced the morning, faced their unwritten story to come.