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November 2011

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lady_aduial in all_unwritten

Prompt 540

wedding pictures


At the rate this state's (and society's) going, there's two things they're never going to have: children and wedding pictures. Sure, the first one has a biological basis, and there will be the not-quite-the-same substitute for the latter, but the alternatives aren't quite what they want...
We played a cruel game, she and I. Oh, it's nothing overt, nothing to make people say "My God, why do you still talk to him if you hate him so much?" or "Why the hell are you still associating with that bitch?" No, nothing so ostentatious, although I'm sure we could if we wanted to. No, we play out game subtly, slowly and cruelly. I mention my wedding, she tells me about the one she has planned. She talks about her children, I bring up how far along my wife is. Every time we do, we say "Oh, that's just the way married life is," and laugh. Every time but the last, that is. I showed a picture of my wedding and she showed a picture of hers. The poses were identical. She could have been beaming where my wife was and I could have been where her husband stood. We stopped our game after that. It wasn't very fun anymore.
I really like this, nice interpretation!
My favourite weddings are always the one with the smaller pictures, snapped by a friend on an instant camera. Like our friends who held their reception at the village hall, all the catering and entertainment done by friends. Their pictures show the father of the bride Morris dancing, the father of the groom reading a poem in Cornish. The bride is wearing a handmade dress from her sister with flowers in her hair. Everyone is laughing, dancing to the music of her hip, bagpipe-playing punk-styled best friend. I’ve got a picture on my mantelpiece of some other friends - the groom is wearing a suit that’s probably older than I am, the bride is wearing a green and white outfit she bought at the local market. The reception pictures are all spontaneous – him opening a bottle of champagne at the local pub. Her, laughing with her daughter as she cuts the cake her brother-in-law has handmade her. I love these pictures. They’re not polished. They’re not displayed in an album with ribbons and fancy paper. They show spontaneous moments of love and laughter. My favourite is my own, naturally. We were in Princes’ Street Gardens in Edinburgh, and my husband had just set the camera up on the tripod. Our two witnesses were laughing. I remember I felt like royalty in the dress I’d got for £20, hair and makeup styled by me that morning in the hotel room. That picture is still on top of my TV, nothing fancy, just a 6x4 print in a cheap frame. We’re sitting on the edge of a fountain, and to anyone else we’d look like guests at someone else’s expensive wedding. Six years later, I still feel like royalty.