lgor was perfect. He was like a tree—strong, sturdy, and towering. Gazing at Algor, I wondered how a creature this wonderful and enormous could exist. He was the tallest thing I’d ever seen, taller than my house.

Algor’s eyes were bright cerulean, the color of a still ocean—or at least I think they were. I still don’t know what they looked like, exactly. Did I mention he was tall? You really had to squint to see up there.

I loved Algor because of the way he made me feel—small. Next to Algor, I looked like the tiniest, sexiest ant. When Algor held my hand, my fingers disappeared into the vastness of his palm. When Algor uttered my name, flocks of birds startled and began early migration. When Algor stroked my hair, I could barely glimpse him from where he stood across the ravine. That’s how long his arms were: ravine-width.

In his human form, Algor resembled a mix of George Clooney, Tom Cruise, and a Boeing 747. In his magical form, Algor resembled a demon rhinoceros with wings. I found him endlessly gorgeous in every form. My cheeks flushed with lustful passion each time I watched blood spurt from his enchanted horn.

Algor’s love for me was only outmatched by his hatred for everyone else. The townsmen feared his razor-sharp teeth, lightning speed, and quick temper. But I didn’t. None of these qualities seemed like red flags to me at all. I knew that Algor was just misunderstood. I knew he only severed the heads of his enemies because of that thing that happened in his childhood. Would someone so dangerous be so obsessed with their dead mother? Nay, I think not.

Local gentlewomen scoffed when they saw us together. I knew what they were thinking: Why should a lowly peasant girl with a frock caked in muck get to be with the village’s hugest hunk? But Algor paid the jealous ladies no mind. In fact, he once stepped on one—not on purpose, of course, only because he mistook her for an abnormally large mosquito.

My family feared that Algor would destroy me. I was frail and slow and got tired from holding a strawberry. But I wasn’t worried. I knew that Algor would never hurt me, because he adored me, and also because, deep down, he was a feminist.

The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. When we kissed, Algor accidentally opened his mouth too wide and swallowed me whole. Somewhere inside my hulking husband’s esophagus, I heard the faint chime of church bells, and I smiled. This, I thought. This is true love. ♦