Another writing prompt from Friday! This one was to write what was going through the husband-to-be’s head as his wife-to-be walked down the aisle. I have to say it was incredibly fun to write, especially from a negative point of view.

This was written in Starbucks with only ten minutes and minimal brainstorming. I did minor editing before I posted it- Enjoy! 🙂


I hated the flowers. I suggested something more neutral- a soft pink or purple; maybe something white. I didn’t want the flowers to distract from the union we were about to form.

I looked around the altar. Everywhere I looked, the bright blue and green flowers were demanding that I looked at them.

“Over here! Look at me! Hello!” they cried. My eyes jumped from the bunches of flowers at the end of each row to the potted flowers hanging above my head.

Everyone stood up. Bryan nudged me and whispered something in my ear. I caught the word “Tina” and dragged my gaze away from the flower arrangement above my head, to catch the first look at my wife-to-be.

She was wearing pink. The dress was fucking pink!

It gathered and pooled around her ankles.

Her father was going to trip. That stupid pink catastrophe of fabric was going to reach out and grab her father’s leg. It was going to circle around his ankles and pull until he went falling down. He would roll over and try to stand up, only to be blinded and suffocated by the waves of pink fabric. Eventually he would be able to get a glimpse of those damn green and blue flowers. If I was him, I would gratefully tug the pink dress back over my eyes.

He was going to trip.

The bodice fit her nicely.

Her boobs were pushed up and out. Her waist looked tiny and she had the perfect hourglass figure. That was ruined when I looked up at Tina- she looked like she couldn’t breathe. Her mother must have laced it too tight.

I couldn’t see her shoes; the pink catastrophe was still blocking the way. But I was insightful, and I knew she must have been wearing heels. She looked taller.

Tina was getting closer now. I couldn’t see the pins in her soft blonde hair, but I caught a sparkle or glisten here and there as she continued to walk closer to me.

Her something borrowed was a macaroni necklace one of her students made. A bridesmaid whispered something about how sweet it was.

I think she meant tacky.

I reached out to grab Tina’s hands and smiled at her father.

She wore pink! I couldn’t believe she decided to wear pink.



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