Lud-in-the-Mist

Too late, Ruth realized where she was heading and looked with horror at her empty glass, experiencing the painful moment when it becomes clear that what has been drunk cannot be undrunk. It had been so lovely, the wine, like drinking fermented hope or happiness, and now she was babbling and being indiscreet and would end up in the gutter, a confirm

(sometimes you will see a Statue almost bisected by the Water that has splashed onto it for centuries).