Blissfully Wedded
It all begins with an idea.
A click sounded as Sydney placed an old, worn cassette tape into her boom box and closed it.
She pushed play, and rock music blasted at full volume.
Dust and debris scattered as the bride-to-be held up her puffy, satin dress and ran to her spot by the opened, double-oak doors of the abandoned Sleepy Hollow Country Club.
In her mind’s eye, all Sydney could see was the beautifully decorated banquet hall with white flowers and bows. Perfection.
The piano notes of her favorite song, “November Rain,” echoed in the silent building as she started her bridal walk. Her heels squished in the moist carpet as she step-paused, step-paused all the way to the altar.
In Sydney’s imagination, family and friends grinned at her, and she beamed back.
In reality, rain fell from the hole in the ceiling, ruffling the thick webbing of spiders that hung in every dark corner, waiting on their prey as mice scurried by the joyful woman.
The freshly picked wildflowers already drooped in her warm hands as Sydney made her way toward Logan, her first crush from high school.
She had followed him home after their ten-year high school reunion.
Even though the song continued to play, Sydney stood by the stolen wheelchair surrounded by red roses.
* * *
Two weeks later, she leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I can’t wait to get that tux off you,” she said, plucking a piece of windshield glass out of his face, breathing in the sweet smell of death and kissing his white skull peeking through leathery flesh.
She squeezed his putrefied hand, and his pinky broke off, hanging by the decaying skin.
“Oh, Sweetie. Don’t go to pieces on me now.” Sydney chuckled.