A marriage is never observed from just one seat.

At the entrance, everybody has a different reason for looking twice. Someone is checking whether they are early. Someone else is deciding who to hug first. Someone has made the journey alone.

Then the room begins its work. It distributes a drink, an old nickname, the last available chair. It offers a view of the couple that neither person at the centre can entirely see. For a few hours, the guest has a minor and profound occupation: to hold the shape of the day with other people.

Editorial note: Edition Thirteen is an original editorial work of fiction. Every person, wedding and remembered line in this issue is imagined; the feeling of witness is real.