Monday, 15 February 2010

I don’t / I do?

My hand trembled through the veils of shames, as I am getting more turgid to seeing such an enormous remnant of my deliberative state. Although the signals had called off the mission, I remained there - unmoved. Maybe something is wrong with me or is it something is unclear for me. Never, the less shame I had ever endeavored in my whole life and never, the more pride I had ever planted in my soul. Before the wedding, everything and everyone was all fine, no problems were in sight. Not until the Father’s words were pierced through the eardrums of my inert ears.

“Will you William Tennyson, take Christina Evans as your lawfully wedded wife?” he asked. I’m stuck at the middle of an awkward situation, a situation in which no man had ever passed flawlessly before; I prayed to God for the agility of my tongue.

I answered, “I …don’t,” every rolling eyes were on me, my fiancé almost fainted, the father of the bride looks like he will be butchering my flesh and tears almost ran down my mother’s cheeks. “No, I … I do!” I uttered abruptly, correcting my rather stupid statements on the most glorious day of my life. I held my head downwards - at first, no one seems to notice my idiocy, but, after seconds of silence a fine gentleman starts smiling, two giddy teenagers giggled, three women whispered and everyone laughed. Father Joseph even slapped me hard on the shoulder. Everyman Jack were laughing including Christy – oh, I can’t wait to divorce her.


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