Fiction - The Cabin by Ananya Gondesi

(It is a foggy and silent day in a remote forest. The flowers blow in the morning breeze. In the

middle, there sits a rotting, ugly cabin. The camera moves into the cabin. The floors are

cracked, with weeds oozing through. At the back center, there sits a rotting table. Maggots

squirm in the wood. On the table, there sits a pristine wine glass. It is pretty, unlike the cabin. It is pretty as opposed to the horrendous cabin. The camera holds for a beat. Then the doors

burst open, and in walks a beautiful bride. The camera moves back. She’s cut all over and her dress is dirty and slashed. She’s bleeding all over and her eyes stare blankly forward. Her hair is crazy, yet the veil sits perfectly on her head. A few pieces of the door blew off from her force. She falls to the ground, and her nose begins to bleed. She crawls to the front, blood bubbling out of her mouth. The wine glass in front of her fills up and overflows with blood. She staggers to her feet and stretches her arms out. The wine glass begins to drain as her wounds heal themselves. Her dress is still torn. As she looks up, the cabin shakes and collapses at her feet. The table and the wine glass, now completely clean and shining, stays exactly where it is. She takes a deep breath in.)

WOMAN: Catch me if you can.