I debated for a long time if I wanted to share this or not… It is an attempt at Flash Fiction! Which I probably did completely wrong.
Red! Red! Red!
Red was all Gail could see. The color red. It burned her eyes until everything was red. Her mother was red, her room was red, her dress was red, and the candlestick in her hand was red.
Everything was red, even her wedding was red! And what a wedding it was to be? Red roses picked with care from the best florist. Caterers sampled until Gail sworn she gained ten pounds. The most popular band. The most desirable chapel.
The reception was decorated with tender care. Bouquet tables had been set up, the band stand built, the trees and chairs adorned with flowers and ribbons. There would be champagne, fine wine, dancing and food. Then, off to Paris for two blissful weeks with Harold!
Harold, her love, was charming and handsome. Loving and strong. Someday, he would be a prominent lawyer. Gail envisioned him working while she took care of the house and kids. They would have two children. Both boys, as strong and handsome as their father.
She could imagine the four of them living in a house on the water, probably in Florida where it was nice and warm. They would build sandcastles, host barbecues, and end every day with a long walk on the beach holding hands.
Yes, it was going to be a grand wedding!
It was a disaster! The flowers were dead, dripping petals of red blood on the chapel floor, the caterer canceled at the last minute and the Gown…
Gail’s beautiful gown was too small. She wiggled and squirmed. She yanked and pulled. She cursed and screamed until the sound of tearing pierced the air.
She could not take any more disasters. The frustration and anger finally sending her in a blind rage. She began to tear her dress apart. Shredding and throwing, tossing and swearing.
Finally her energy spent she collapsed on the floor to cry. Her beautiful wedding. The day she had dreamed of her whole life was becoming the worse day of her life. Nothing was right. Everything was wrong. All her planning wasted. How could she ever salvage things? What would the guest say?
Would they call the wedding the worse disaster since Katrina? Would they laugh or pity her? Would they gossip like a bunch of nannies?
They were already pushing and pulling each other. Each one wanting to watch the breakdown of the bride, as if she was a monkey in the cage destined for their entertainment. Or worse, a bridezilla. Gail could imagine them calling her by that horrid name. She could imagine them laughing and joking at her expense.
After all, is that not what a wedding is meant for? To entertain the guest? It was her beloved Harold who came to her rescue. Closing the door, shutting out the prying eyes as he held her in his arms.
It was Harold who said they did not need flowers – they would only take away from her beauty. Harold who said they did not need a reception – it meant they could start the honeymoon right away!
It was Harold who held her now. “Gail, don’t cry. It is not all bad.” Harold said, holding up a chunk of the torn gown. “I would marry you just as you are now.”
Gail chuckled against Harold chest. Trying to envision herself walking down the aisle. Her hair dangling loosely down her back, her father beaming proudly next to her, and her shapely body only hidden by Victoria Secret.
The image of her getting married in her undergarments was a funny sight. “I love you!” She whispered softly, throwing her arms around his neck.
He squeezed her side gently, assisting her to her feet. Slowly, and with love, he wiped the tears from her face. Gail smiled lovingly at him. How could she not? She was going to married the most wonderful man in the world.
“I forgot. Check out what Jon gave us.” Harold said reaching in his inside pocket to produce two tickets. “Super Bowl tickets.” Harold said, excitement oozing out of him. “Sweetheart, it’s Super Bowl Sunday. Remember? It’s the biggest game of the year – its once in a lifetime! If we hurry we will make it in time for kick off!” Harold explained when Gail looked confused.
Yes. Gail was seeing Red. The room was red. Harold was red. Her wedding was red. The candlestick in her hand dripped red.