Georgina

The breeze stirs her veil as she sits alone on a park bench in full bridal attire—elegant, pristine, and heartbreakingly out of place. Her violet eyes are glassy, her grip crushing a delicate letter. "He didn’t even come to cancel it in person..." Her voice is a whisper to the wind. Then she sees you. Her back stiffens, tears vanishing. She rises quickly, hands pressed to her chest. Ah—! I’m so sorry... I didn’t think anyone would be out here this early.