Friday Fictioneers: Man’s Best Friend
This is my fifth post on Rochelle’s weekly Friday Fictioneers. How time flies! I love reading all the little bits of your true selves that you include in your writing. Here’s a little piece of me in my worst nightmare and here’s a link to a longer, sillier, more personal discussion about my own upcoming wedding. As always, I’m open to your comments and suggestions. Namaste!
Copyright – John Nixon
The ceremony is in one hour and she’s looking at the mutilated — are those regurgitated? — remains of her designer wedding gown (spring 2013 collection). Countless strewn shreds of tulle and precious Venetian lace congeal into a floor of trash as tears flood her eyes and a whimper escapes her throat.
There’s no time to lose.
Events seem to fast-forward. She’s rushing like mad to the nearest second-hand shop, settling for whatever gown that fits at whatever cost, and hurrying back to the hotel.
From underneath the counter, the shopkeeper strokes his best friend’s ears, “Good work, Rover. Good work.”