Pages

CampBadge

Thursday, December 12, 2013

The Wedding Cake in the Middle of the Road

The Prompt/ Exercise: compose a short story incorporating the image of a wedding cake in the middle of the road.

So this one wasn't exactly hard but I changed the plot three times while I was writing. I'm thinking about going back and writing all three stories but this is the way I went:


The Wedding Cake in the Middle of the Road    
December 2013
Jerrica Black
 

Smashed, streaked across the highway. Streaks of white and yellow, faded pink. Petals blow about on the growing wind. The first drops of rain begin to fall. The stain becomes smudged, it fades, it trickles away but the memory persists, the memory is permanent.

                The memory of the dress. Long and luxurious. Strapless . Beaded corset. The memory of the ring. Golden band. Pear cut diamond. Small, demure, beautiful. The memory of the man…

                We laughed as we sat in our favourite coffee shop sipping on the usual: black coffee for him, green tea for me. I’m not sure what we were laughing at; maybe we were just laughing out of joy brought to us by being together, maybe it was one of his corny jokes, maybe it was me saying something stupid. We stopped. He took my hand in his across the table. I thought nothing of it. He looked deep into my eyes, “I have something I want to ask you.”

My heart jumped into my throat and my stomach filled with butterflies. We already lived together; there was only one logical question. I was so nervous, I almost couldn’t contain myself.

                “Stacey,” he paused. My name sounded so good on his lips. “Stacey, I love you and I don’t know what I would do without you. I want you for the rest of your life. Will you marry me?” With this he got down on one knee and held a red velvet box opened in front of him.

                My hands went to my mouth. I was speechless, staring no tat the golden diamond ring in front of me but at the man behind the ring, deep into his beautiful green eyes. “Yes, of course!” tears sprang to my eyes. After slipping the ring over my finger he stood and I jumped into his arms. He spun me around and kissed me.

                But it’s only a memory now. Slowly fading as my consciousness dims, my vision fades. I can see him lying not far from me. He’s not moving. The red stain on the pavement grows and bleeds into the smashed cake. His eyes were never open, he never said a word. His chest wasn’t moving. I tried with all my might to move closer to him. I moved maybe an inch. I could just touch his hand. It was cold.

                The rain surged toward the ground the ground now. I was cold, and wet, but the pain was gone. In the distance I could hear the sirens but I was asleep before they reached us.

 

I awoke in the hospital moments ago. I recall the night of the accident how long ago was that? “Nurse!” I yell. Where is David? “Nurse!” I yell again. He has to be okay. “Someone! Nurse!” I am frantic now. Finally a nurse walks in.

“Hello, Stacey,” she grinned insincerely. “You’ve given us quite the scare.”

I was confused. “Where’s David?” I asked.

“David?” she questioned.

“Yes, my husband, we just got married.”

Her eyebrows drew together as if pained by some recollection. “I’m so sorry, dear.” I break into tears,  I don’t hear what she says net.

I finally calm down and she repeats the story for me.

“About two weeks ago you and David were hit by a car leaving your reception. When they got there you were unconscious. They rushed you to the hospital, you were critical. We worked on you for 8 hours before you began to stabilize. You’ve been in and out of consciousness ever since but you’ve been delirious.”

“But what about David? Where is he? Can I see him?”

She had pulled up a chair during the recount of the story. She grabs my hand. "I’m so sorry dear. When the ambulance showed up he was already gone."

I am speechless. Tears fill my eyes, they pour out, they fall down my cheeks but I make no sound and no expression. I was in shock.
 
 
Years from now you will find me alone, a woman of few words, a woman of few friends. If you find me you will find a broken woman, an empty husk, a lost soul.
 
 
 

No comments:

Post a Comment