White Wedding - Original Writing As I hurried towards the church I realised, with that feeling of cold and sinking that is often felt on these occasions, that I was even more late than than I previously thought. There were lines of cars lining the streets around the church and no more guests were arriving. They all have to be inside. I quickened my pace on the dewy grass and then began to run, but quickly slowed down again to a brisk walk when my skirt began to ride up and my hair escaped from my bun. traffic on British roads, I had taken liberty with my time and left at eleven. For much of the morning I had been slumped in my green Rover in a blockade of cars, horns blaring, people screaming and the speed going about ten inches a minute. I had underestimated the obstacles of Monday morning traffic. Now, as I walked through the cemetery, I made a mental note to leave, in the future, at least two hours earlier than I normally would in Mongolia. I checked my watch. Half past twelve. I was fifteen minutes late. I quickly approached the church and stopped to look at it for a moment. English architecture was so different from Mongolian architecture. The church was grand and majestic, but at the same time very pretty. The huge walls were built of heavy sand-colored stone slabs and a single turret spiraled from the front of the building, covered in red-brown slate. Richly sculpted figures were set in the walls; one, recognized as the Virgin Mary, was bent over the child she was holding in her arms. There were other figures too, but they were unfamiliar to me, their features... in the center of the paper..., screaming wildly, while he choked and spluttered as he got tighter and tighter. Finally someone emptied a jug of orange soda over his head and he was left dripping and bedraggled but no longer on fire. Someone was pushing me towards the exit. I thought maybe I shouldn't have had so many drinks. I was just in time to see a portrait of Queen Victoria catch fire before falling out the door onto the wet grass. The heavy metal could still be heard rumbling from within. I was lying face down on the ground. I breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of damp peat and grass. I watched with interest as a ladybug darted before my eyes. I had never seen one so close. The siren of an approaching fire engine could be heard. I vaguely wondered if all English weddings were this much fun.