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June 2011 Challenge
Bungo blinked. The dream seemed so real that he felt confused on waking to find himself in his own bed, at night, and alone, when an instant before he'd been walking hand-in-hand with Belladonna though a springtime forest, the trees a-bloom, pale petals raining down up them, her laughter like music.
But his dream was ashes. She'd thrown him over. His family was relieved. His brother Longo had never liked her; it was to be expected, he'd said. Tooks were wild and unpredictable, it was all for the best.
But the truth was, he still loved her beyond all reason.
Belladonna eased herself out of bed, careful not to wake her sisters, and padded over to their window. It had been so hard to waken from so sweet a dream: she and Bungo, side-by-side on a comfortable settee in front of a cheery hearth in a cosy hole, his strong arm about her shoulder, her head leaning on his.
Her sisters were unsurprised when she had called their courtship off: Bagginses were so prim, staid and respectable. Frankly, Mirabella had said, Bungo was boring.
The truth was she had thrown away the love of her life for no good reason.
Of course they came together once more. They could no more have remained apart than they could have stopped breathing. Why punish themselves over something trivial?
In the golden years to come they'd recall those months apart with the wry amusement of hindsight. The truth was they could barely remember their quarrel in the first place. It had, like most such quarrels of the young, been over something quite inconsequential. There were walks in the woods and evenings by the fire until they were old and wise.
Reason won out in the end. Their love made their dreams come true.
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