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Michelle and the Wedding

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Michelle and the Wedding Michelle stood up and stretched her arms. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness in the way only a working man - or woman - could. Spending most of her days tap-tap-tapping away on a keyboard had taken its toll on her, and her attention span was now at the point where she spent most of the afternoon doing the open-eyed sleep that most office workers have perfected. She snapped out of it in time to see the computer clock flick to 5:10. "Damn" she swore to herself. She knew she was going to be late at this rate. Hurriedly she threw her things into her bag, grabbing her keys and phone and hammering on the keyboard with a vague hope that it would shut the computer down faster. Sadly, the outburst of violence seemed only to annoy the computer, causing it to dot out a long series of beeps. Guiltily, Michelle stood back and calmed herself down, hoping nobody saw or heard what she did. After what felt like forever it finally shut down. Breathing a sigh of relief she grabbed her bag and in one deft movement swept her coat onto her back, exchanging the bag between hands in a fluent split second, finishing with the bag on her shoulder. She smiled to herself; she knew that Phil would have seen it, and knew how impressed he would be. How impressed he always was, in fact. She knew he had a crush on her, and he probably knew she was aware of that. ...read more.


She couldn't hold the lie, and she laughed out loud with the last comment. She didn't know why she was so giggly with him. It was as if she was a child again. Jason was the same though. He was very mature and patient, but he was very childish at heart. He was definitely the best of both worlds. She was the happiest she had ever been. When he had popped the big question four years ago, presenting a large diamond ring, she had almost fainted with joy. The wedding day was in a week's time, and they were going to go see about renting a tuxedo for him. Sadly, that was cut short. Due to the pair of them being late, the city centre was brimming with people and the stores were doing their best to close on time. Feeling a little dismayed, they headed home. Michelle was cursing to herself. She had tried so many times to make this journey, as had Jason, but they never seemed to be able to get to the stores. Listening to "Men In Black" on the radio, she smiled to herself as she made a mental note that irony is a cruel thing. During next day's lunch break she went to the smaller town centre to pick up her wedding dress. She had selected the perfect one before she had even been proposed to, shortly after her best friend's wedding. It was a magnificent dress. The train was long and frilly, and the dress itself felt and looked silky. ...read more.


Not that that was such a bad thing though; she would far rather be flying away with neon spaceships than sat with increasingly numbing buttocks. Sipping at a cup of lukewarm water, she tapped her feet on the floor, nodding her head along with the resulting rhythm. She was so caught up in her thoughts and tapping that she didn't even notice the man run in and shoot the wedding planner, before setting fire to the office. She didn't bat an eyelid when the sirens wailed, and the shocked bystanders looked in as she sat in a burning room, surrounded by flames, tapping her feet in time to nonexistent music. She didn't even cast a glance towards the yelling policeman and fireman, whilst the flames climbed slowly up her arms and legs. She didn't even flinch when a beam fell from the ceiling, exploding into a strangely attractive shower of sparks. She didn't care, because she'd been there so many times before. Michelle woke up. She was sweating, she was breathing heavily and she was shaking, but she didn't cry. She didn't let out any screams. She sat up slowly, her head brimming. She had so many thoughts racing around, it was hard to make out what she was thinking. She walked slowly towards the room of her cell, and clawed weakly at the padding as she had done so many times before. Part of her was sobbing silently inside, mourning for Jason even though four years had passed since he was hurled through the windscreen of her car, bouncing like a rag doll down the rocky and hilly terrain of Norway. Outside, the workers at Dorsetshire County Asylum started preparing for the day shift. ...read more.

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