Margot and I were in Prospero’s city hall dealing with some paperwork. I won’t bore you with the details. It was just one of the sundry things that various groups generally asked you to do to make sure that you weren’t some scammer from the opposite side of the globe making use of a stolen identity.

We were sitting in line, waiting to get called up so we could wrap up our business there and head out for lunch. Then Margot said,

“Hey...Do you think we should get married?”

“...What?” I said. My train of thought derailing and exploding into a mushroom cloud.

“Well,...We’ve been together for nearly three years and things are going pretty good. Paperwork-wise we’re already all but married if you considered all the joint properties and accounts we have together. And...I’m pretty sure I’m head over heels for you and I don’t see that changing in the next ten millennia, never mind the next ten years...Which would have us ahead of the game even if I end being only ten percent right.”

“Uh…I...I love you too, but isn’t this a bit too fast?” I said.

“Mhm,...Maybe.”

The conversation just sort of died at that point. Neither of us said anything. Margot was doing her whole wistful and mysterious schtick. I was...melting down, and rebooting repeatedly as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

Then I suddenly heard myself say,

“L-, Let’s do it…”

“I...I thought you said it was too soon?” said Margot.

“Did...Did I?...If so, nevermind. I don’t think I’ll regret it...and so long as you don’t regret it, I’m happy. Plus you’re right, at this stage, it's just a formality...We’re so entangled financially, legally, and circumstantially, that the only thing that’d change besides us getting a nice tax break, is the formal affirmation of our feelings,” I said. Feeling faint as the words spilled out of me, like sand out of a torn bean bag chair.

“Do you really mean that, Monty?” said Margot. Her hand finding my own. Our fingers intertwining.

“Yes…” I answered. More sure of my words than I was sure of my own existence.

“O-, Okay...Then. Uh, let’s get hitched, I guess.” said Margot. Blushing.

“So uh, do you think we should go for a city hall wedding or did you want to do something more religious?” I said.

“Mhm...City hall is fine with me. I’m not on speaking terms with my family and I don’t have any friends I’d want to invite. How about you?” said Margot.

“I don’t…. have any family...I have a few friends now but not enough that I’d feel a need to have them be a part of this...And the less time I spend in any place of worship the better...the gods and I generally don’t see eye to eye,” I said.

“So City hall it is then,” said Margot.

We didn’t get married that day. It wasn’t that cooler minds ended up prevailing and we’d changed our minds, Arcadia just happened to be one of those states that made you wait a couple of days for the marriage license to go through.

Three days later though, we found ourselves right back in city hall. Margot wore a simple white sundress and flip flops. I wore a t-shirt and some comfortable dress pants.

Our marriage was officiated by some desk clerk. If that doesn’t sound magical too you then maybe you just had to be there, because that moment beat every sunrise, big bang, astral cascade, magical convocation, and spiritual migration I’d ever born witness to.