The Widower's New Bridegroom

By Benjamin Parsons

When shy, reticent Elias gets married to a dynamic older man, he hopes to say goodbye to his melancholy former life and make the most of their modern civil partnership. But soon he finds himself haunted by the beguiling idea of his dead predecessor: the man Elias would love to be, and even love to love. Inspired by Chaucer's medieval dream romances, this modern day tale uses gothic themes to explore the differences between civil partnerships and traditional notions of love and marriage. Part of the collection The Green Lady and Other Stories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Benjamin Parsons
• Release date: Nov 26, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301433230

Benjamin Parsons

I am a writer and artist from the Westcountry of England now living in London. I write and illustrate stories about love, hate, ambition, revenge, beauty, and the supernatural.

Book preview

The Widower’s New Bridegroom

by Benjamin Parsons

Copyright 2023 Benjamin Parsons. First published in 2012.

Smashwords edition, license notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

* * *

There was an unseasonal snowfall in April, and winter, in overlapping spring, bit to death half the new shoots in my garden— so that when the thaw came, I had no heart to look out upon the desolation. Besides, a chill wind continued to blow, which drove me to retreat into my little green study, and wrap myself up in a friendly old book.

But though I intended to find distraction from garden-thoughts, I inadvertently started a tale that featured a garden more blooming and refulgent than mine would ever be. The lines before me depicted an ancient gate, over which were inscribed two verses: the first, above one half of the portal, was a cordial welcome into a blissful place where winter could not reach, and May endured always; but that was no pleasant reading for me, when I considered the poor state of my own wretched little realm, so I turned aside from the page in dissatisfaction. However, my reflections were no more congenial than my chatting author’s— his description immediately reminded me of another lovely garden, which I visited once, some years ago— and the memory brought with it a strangeish story, which you shall hear.

The garden I remembered was not vast or grand, but so elegantly designed and cultivated that, when its adjoining homestead was demolished, it survived destruction for a while to be opened to the public. It was a broad circular plot, enclosed by a high wall of mossy stones, and the entrance was through a round aperture, like a Chinese moon gate (there were no inscriptions here, however, except a sign to announce the fee). A path led straight to the centre from the threshold, where it branched into three lanes, each leading to the