Brogue 2007 - Belhaven College

t h e b r o g u e
processional!”
Then the group threw formation to the wind as hilarity hit them all at
once, and the leader finally said in laughter, “Alright, I’m slowing down.”
Nothing, except perhaps the sighting of an unusually large bug, could
hinder their progress, and so they slowly proceeded along the bank of the
lake, farther and farther. A row of bushes threatened to slow them, but the
fearless leader plunged through a narrow break in the greenery, forbidding
hesitation. Between a brick wall and evenly placed trees hanging out over
the lake, the group found themselves in a pretty sort of tunnel. The moon
overhead and blackness falling, their minds bewitched by the beauty of
nature’s hiding place, a few of the girls stopped to dream for just a moment.
Caught up in the spirit of the thing, there was a general consensus (among all
but the one it affected) that the Lady of Shalott should throw off her cloak
and run through the tunnel. The other girls would wait for her on the other
side with her garment, as she had nothing else on. They carried out this plan
in a rather loud manner, and then, as if no wild thing had just occurred, they
proceeded solemnly back to the swing. The bottle was waiting for them,
much lighter than before.
They agreed that vows were the next thing to fulfill the tradition, and
so they proceeded onwards in strange shapes until uniting in a circle. After
whispered deliberation, heads were pulled up, shoulders drawn back, and a
romantic attitude of desperation taken on by all.
The first girl raised her glass, “I will never be afraid of making a
decision.” She drank.
The next girl raised her glass, saying thoughtfully, “I will never let the
potential die.” She drank.
“I will never run from adventure,” exclaimed the third. She drank.
Then the last said, “I will never truly grow up,” and they all drank
heartily to a collection of vows to which only the most romantic of souls
holds.
After solemnity came chaos, and the four sheeted figures were left with
the reality of getting back into their place of residence without arousing
curiosity. Eventually, their voices drifted into silence, and the lake was left in
peace.
And the moon smiled to see that imagination had not disappeared, and
such things still occur on twentieth birthdays.
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