"You must be", said the Cat, "Or you wouldn't have come here."
Lewis Carroll
A drop of water rolls down the shiny steel side of an ice bucket. A bottle of amber liquid floats in a bucket of ice, like an iceberg in the ocean waiting for its Titanic. Hungry brides greedily pounce on the burgers kindly served by the waitress. Foggy glasses rise and clink together in a festive toast. Dishes rattle, iron chairs noisily move back and forth on the terrace around the table: the girls cannot sit down, they jump from place to place around each other, overwhelmed with emotions. Sparrows fight for crumbs of bread and fried potatoes thrown to them by a generous girl's hand. Veils flutter in the wind and playfully strive to plunge into glasses, plates, a bucket of ice, or even to fly into the skies over the vast expanse of the river. The girls rein in their loose veils, laughing: the holiday mood overwhelms them so much that it’s surprising how they haven’t already flown away to soar over the city.
Having had enough, they calm down and rest. Someone is lying against the wall, someone is swinging on a chair, someone is hanging on the railing of the terrace, someone is splashing in the fountain, someone is dancing and singing, shaking their veil and extending their arms towards the river in the dance. Visitors of the cafe look with timid curiosity at the revelry of the brides, and some even decide to start a conversation. Is it your graduation? Birthday? Weddings? Bursts of laughter accompany the conversation in broken Spanish, and the visitor returns to his table even more surprised and puzzled.
The waitress brings pieces of cake and huge mugs of coffee, and the bride's feast becomes more and more like a holiday in a kindergarten. Laughter and squeals accompany the cream rose dropped on the dress. The brides begin to run back and forth between the terrace and the toilet, and the whole hall is imperceptibly saturated with the atmosphere of the matinee.
When the girls disappear into the midday heat, chairs and mountains of plates and cups stay in disarray and a forgotten veil is left on the terrace. The sparrows joyfully pounce on the remains of the feast. The wind swings the cafe door in search of its cheerful friends. Visitors look around the empty hall in confusion: the holiday has disappeared along with the brides, as if they took it with them.
