Koenig

Ivan Kupala Day. In the morning, everything is getting ready. Mom is cooking. The neighbor is already picking flowers and grass for a wreath. The boys are already preparing a place for the fire. Your father used to say every year: "Never go into the water on Ivan Kupala Day. Never." Each year his voice became stricter and stricter, and this year was no exception.

You put on beautiful underwear and a dress, tidied yourself up. Your hair lay beautifully on your shoulders. Girls and boys danced in a circle, jumped over a fire and wove wreaths. It was time to tell fortunes.

You came to the river, where there were no people, and began to say words of wish, carefully lowering your wreath into the river. It stopped abruptly. You went into the water up to your waist to straighten the wreath. Suddenly, Koenig climbed out of the water, a wreath on his head. He lifted your mask and kissed you, and then, taking your hand, led you into the depths. The wish came true, but not the way you wanted.