I was working my way through the wedding checklist, making sure I had thought of, paid for, and arranged everything.
Cars, reception venue, meal, gifts. I’d cracked it. A job well done… and with days to spare!
Now I just needed to find someone to marry.
Jon is an aspiring writer from the North West of England, currently boring himself to tears working in local government. He is looking forward to getting wed himself in the next month, but fears his own checklist is never ending… You can read more of his ramblings on the new web presence he has finally gotten round to creating at writingsonthewall645.wordpress.com
It’s clichéd but she’s beautiful: elegant white dress, straight blonde hair, and a modest bouquet in hand.
He remembers when they first met, how he’d imagined her just as she looks now, with that cute smile.
He sighs… She obviously picked another. Time to log out and close that window.
Joey is not on social media partly to avoid such revelations but you can find him at joeytoey.com
I never called them stupid for marrying. That wasn’t in my speech. I was drunk but I remember exactly what I said before somebody yanked the microphone away. I said he was a couple rides short of a carnival and that her sewing machine had obviously run out of thread.
Over the years Bob Thurber’s work has received a long list of awards and prizes. His most recent book is a collection of brief stories titled “Nothing But Trouble”. Visit BobThurber.net.
The organist’s drunk fingers blew atonal notes. No-one noticed: the bride was so beautiful in her dress.
Her father cried.
A child started clapping, but was silenced immediately by a sibling’s shove.
In silence she stalked the aisle, floating forward to her blissful future.
“She looks fat,” her mother-in-law said.
TL Krawec writes because why not?
There I stood at the perfect venue, wearing a perfect dress, waiting for a perfect ring. It should have been the perfect day.
But as I stood at the altar, I realized it was all wrong, because the perfect guy was sitting in the pews, a guest at today’s event.
Kelsey Binder is a high school student from southern Louisiana.
She had loved him. He said he loved her, and she trusted him.
But a week before the wedding, he ran off with her little sister.
There was a note. And everybody believed it, until the day the pipe broke in the basement and the plumber went down to investigate.
Harry Demarest has retired after careers encompassing scientific
research, teaching at a university, software development, web
application development, and voter database compilation and
distribution. He is now spending his time with his grandchildren and
writing memoirs and short stories.
He and she became they on a warm and gentle autumn afternoon. They were lucky it wasn’t raining.
Dressed in black and white, surrounded by fax machines, computers, televisions, all close friends in their lives, they beeped in love when the minister told the laptop he could plug the printer.
Alex Grover is a third-year student at Rowan University. He has been published in Outrageous Fortune, Postcard Shorts, Trapeze Magazine, and Linguistic Erosion. He is editor-in-chief of Yorick Magazine, an online venture he began with Cody Steinhauer in 2011.
Here I stand, alone at the front, the crowd murmuring from stolid pews. My coat tails limp, my collar moist with sweat. I imagine her in white, coming up the aisle, my heart pounding.
But when I look, there are only faces full of pity and an empty, open door.
Megan Dodge is a sophomore in high school with a passion for writing. She’s written stories and poems since she was seven years old and hopes to have a future affiliated with editing, writing, and/or publishing.
She finished tying his black tie before tucking it into the pink vest his fiancée picked out.
“I thought you didn’t want to be loved,” he said, looking down.
“I didn’t,” she smiled. “But sometimes people change their minds,” she whispered, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly before heading towards the sanctuary.
Alyssa Beth Galloway is an unpublished fiction and poetry writer. She enjoys watching Hitchcock films and browsing used book stores in her spare time. Galloway currently attends Southeast Missouri State University, and is seeking a career in writing.
“Why so glum?” my old buddy asked.
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” I said.
“You don’t seem too happy about it,” he said.
I just shrugged.
“C’mon,” he said, “pack a bag. We’ll hop a Greyhound and spend a few days in Vegas.”
Now I have to live with the consequences.
Alex Markovich started writing fiction late in life. He’s 76. He also wrote You Promised.