The Funeral at Our Engagement Party

Anne James and I had finally reached the end of an eight-year courtship, and we were about to hold our engagement ceremony.

What I never expected was that on the day itself, when my parents and I arrived early at the hotel private room Anne's mother had booked, the room had been done up to look like a memorial shrine.

Instead of the red, celebratory setup it should have been, the room was crowded with funeral wreaths, and long strips of white cloth and black gauze hung from the ceiling, drifting faintly in the draft from the hotel's air conditioning. The whole thing looked genuinely eerie.