As promised, I’ve written some short fiction. This story is based off of a Greek myth, though I won’t say which one quite yet. We’ll see if anyone can guess. This is only the first of maybe two or three parts. Enjoy!
The couple were together yet again, planning their wedding in his apartment. The bride sat on the groom’s maroon couch, feet tucked up beneath her, riffling through guest invitations. “Are you sure about this guest list?” she asked.
The groom wasn’t really looking; he was too busy taking yet another “break” and watching the game. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered.
The bride sighed. “Hey!” she said, snapping her fingers. “Earth to-”
“Well, what’s wrong with the list?” the groom replied at last, turning to face his love. “It’s not too many, I know, because really, honey, that reception hall is gigantic.”
“Yes, but what about-” the bride pointed to one name on the list. “I mean, does she really have to come? Remember that dinner party? She’s not exactly the most pleasant person to be around.”
The groom whistled through his teeth and ran a hand through his dark hair, which was what he did when making decisions. Then, after a pause, he said, “Well, you’re right, I suppose. You really don’t want to invite her?”
The bride raised her eyebrows. It was enough.
“Right,” the groom conceded. “Fine, then, don’t invite her. We’ll have pictures on Facebook anyway.”
She would never have known about the wedding if she hadn’t been at her sister’s house. If the sister hadn’t had been invited. If the invitation hadn’t been sitting right there, in plain sight on the coffee table as they sat down.
She picked it up, mildly interested. The invitation was pretty, pale blue with swirling letters. “What’s this?”
“Oh, you don’t know?” said the sister. “They’re finally getting married. Apparently the governor himself is springing for it. He’s some kind of relative or something, I think. Simply everyone is going.”
“I never got invited,” she pouted. The glare from the TV illuminated one side of her face with bluish light that mimicked the blue of the invitation.
The sister smirked. “I wonder why. I’m sorry, sis, but you’re not exactly Ms. Congeniality. Especially last year at that dinner party, do you remember?”
Her cheeks burned. “I remember. But that isn’t a reason not to invite me to a wedding, is it?”
“Oh, who knows?” said the sister, after another sip of coffee. She wondered how her sister could drink so much coffee and still have teeth so dazzlingly white. “Don’t worry too much about it, is my advice. Perhaps they simply forgot. After all, planning a wedding is a messy business, to be sure. Especially theirs. I hear it’s going to be simply the biggest bash of the year!”
“You’re not making me feel better.”
“Oh, sorry, darling. But they forgot. I’m sure of it.”
But she wasn’t so sure. Maybe, she thought, I’ll go anyway. Just to see. And perhaps I’ll get a little revenge on them for “forgetting” me.