WA5 Final Draft

Part 1

There are booms of happiness all around me. I reflect and image of pure joy. A woman in white, a man in a suit, a grand five tear cake, and smiling faces. My intricate grooves and indentations scatter the illustration until it is almost undecipherable, but I know. But no matter how beautiful the scene around me is I am at the center of it. People gasp when they look at me, their faces exclaim praise of my unwavering exquisiteness. My elegant design is flawless. I sit upon a long uninterrupted lustrous neck that cranes to see what’s happening even in the far stretches of the chuppah. I flare outwards into a draping goblet that looks like a facsimile of the bride’s skirt. The wedding procession begins. A young girl walks down in a jittery skipping way. She flings out flower petals and then stumbles and the entire contents of her basket dump out into a pile in the middle of the pathway. Then just as the music is reaching its peak, an older man and the bride step onto the runway. She is donning an eloquent dress and a shimmering veil. She makes it to her fiancé who is sweating bullets. The music cuts off, children are shushed, camcorders are clicked on, and the Rabbi begins. People on both sides of the ceremony settle in for a long wait. A man stands up and fluffs his coat. He exudes fake importance; clearly he has taken the littlest job appointed to him to his head. He walks in my direction. His clammy hands grab me and fumble around. I’m captured! I shine with excitement what are they doing, will they honor me as they should. I am handed to the Rabbi who handles me with much more care. He holds me to the audience. He is presenting me and people applaud adoringly. The Rabbi pulls out a long silk cloth from his robe. It is embroidered and breathtaking. Gently he starts wrapping me in it. I’m covered, and I can see nothing. I am cradled like and infant then delicately placed on the ground. I can hear the attendees counting down and a swoosh and then



“Mazel Tov!"


Part 2
Every thing is going according to plan. My ex is probably killing himself right now for letting me go. But that’s what he gets. After 7 years, a marriage is the only logical thing to happen. So for our 7th year anniversary what else would he give me but my diamond ring? Try a set of wine glasses. His defense was that I’d been telling him how much I wanted them, and they cost a fortune. This man kept me in a relationship for 7 years and he knew all along had no potential to grow into anything. So what better revenge than to get married to the richest man I could find. I bet he’s squirming like a squashed but right now, letting a catch like me get away, what an idiot. And the best part? The wine glass (singular since the other three were thrown at his head) he so “sweetly” gave to me will be stomped on at the wedding!“Time to get married” My father yells into my dressing room.I walk out and take my father arm and we head to the ceremony, the wedding procession goes out. Finally it’s my turn, the music peaks. Out I walk to my fiancé, this couldn’t be better. It’s all happening so perfectly. Ew why is he so slimy? Is he sweating? And twitching? That’s obnoxious. He slips the ring onto my hand, it’s hideous.“I do” he says.“I do” I say.I do? Why? Oh right the perfect pay back. Is he wearing brown shoes, with a black tuxedo? So he might have horrible taste but he’s also unbearably petulant, and repulsive. Wait that’s not right, he’s... is that fungus in his ear? I feel light headed. My new brother in-law stands up and heads clumsily to the cup. Wait no! Don’t smash it! He’s handing it to the Rabbi; I’m clinging to this glass like it’s my own life.




He puts it on the ground…I have made a horrible mistake.



Smash.


Mazal tov