It's baaaaaack: The contest where EVERY single entry WINS GPs! |
Our Wedding (My First Shot At Prose) It's lovely I had said. Blue is my favorite colour. A sparkling sapphire engagement ring perched delicately on my finger. I laughed. The flourescent lights of the outdoor gazebo shone through your eyelashes , making your eyes look all the more green. Just remember I teased, marraige is the noose of your fun. You smiled your crocidile smile and kissed me. Let fun end was your reply. The rehersal dinner was beautiful as well. The painted glass windows took my breath away. Those colours I whispered. My heart was numb from a mixture of fear and excitement. We walked down the aisle as we were supposed to. My relatives snored in the pews. Way past their bedtime. Yours as well. Our wedding day. My niece ran around the green yard with her scabbed knees and grabbed pickles from the salad bar. My father looked at me as if to say, no kids for awhile, please. The roses were white. My favorite kind of flower. Pretty as the picture my niece had drawn for me with her crayon. I want children, I thought. The bride's maids helped me with my veil, the whiteness of everything burned into my eyes like lava . You hit the jackpot with that boy of yours, they told me. Yes, I know. The pirate of my heart. I walked. My arm held out to my father's. I love you I whispered. I wished I could fly away on my witchy broomstick . Thats what I would be if I left, a witch. Suddenly that moment caught up with me. The music of the violins , my red painted toenails , the checkered tablecloth, the silky white saucers. This wasn't the end of my life as I had feared. No. I thought. It was the beginning. "Do everything, see everything, want everything, accomplish everything, fail everything: This is the only way to be a writer." --Taryn "Being a writer doesn't mean living the past, it means taking the past and making it the future." Taryn |