The two had married fifteen minutes after they had met each other. Not physically of course—for only a true fool would commit such a lustful crime. But rather in each of their minds they had formed a simple thought, one devoid of gowns and cakes and people and midnight: to marry until the sun stopped their hearts.
“Oyo, heard t’it alle. Meir oponin nekker maeered.”
“I don’t think that’s true, uncle… she always took every word you said to heart.”
A couple of swigs. “Bollon shard.”
“I’m being genuine! I never understood why myself until she told me. When I was—”
“Eiten werg, et nekker parsed meir minde.”
“Then why are we here?” Smoke through gapped teeth.
“I don’t have money.”
“Neir. Meir munerg.”
“You don’t have any money either, uncle. How will you even pay for the wedding?”
Coins falling to the ground. A drunken smile. “Wert t’this.”
Scoffing. “That’ll only pay for your beer and maybe a month’s worth of rent. So how will you pay? You shouldn’t. In the end, it’ll only hurt you…”
“Neir. T’iit mursht beg durn.”
A couple of coughs. “It must be done.” Followed by another swig.