DFF Entry 3/21: Speak now...

Trudging up the spiral stone steps to the top was no thing. He'd done it before. Taking a look over the ledge was familiar. His target was in sight. He'd jumped from here more than once. The ax strapped to his back was part of the program. First he'd land, and if timed right, wave to the groom before plugging in and kicking on the 12-volt battery-powered amp.

Had he remembered the words? Of course he had. This act would not only rock her world, but also shake to pieces the fragile kingdom her father had amassed upon credit and loans. Her marriage to a banker with credulous scruples was supposed to solve that, but timing is everything.

Popping his finger into his mouth briefly, he jutted it into the air to get wind direction and speed. It was blowing a bit harder to the north than he expected, though the fall leaves were usually a helpful indicator. Power lines were no problem, on the left and the right. The rented out country club had a pool, but steering beyond that was a cinch. The only obstacle he could foresee was the canopy above the guests, a white bulky whale of a tent, his Moby Dick. If he could just skim the top and brake abruptly before the altar, his song would say the rest.

They began down the aisle, matrimonial music echoed off the gargoyle corners of St. Matthew's. If they'd picked this venue, winning his fair maiden would have been a worthy challenge indeed. But this was cake. He put his toes over the edge. A deep breath. A slight bending of the knees. Closing his leather sheathed hands into firm fists around the control lines. A wave of adrenaline ebbed, clearing his doubts and apprehensions. He launched.