We went to the florist’s house two weeks before the wedding to order the flowers. She had books of photographs of different kinds of bouquets.
She asked me what kind of flowers I wanted to carry,
“What kind of white flower do you want to carry? Calla lilies?
“I want to carry red roses.”
“No, brides always carry white.”
“But I want red roses. My mother carried red roses for her wedding; I want red roses.”
“No, you need white. It is what you are supposed to do.”
“No, I want red.”
“No, you need white.”
“Fine.”
She was going to order white flowers for me.
I started to hide inside of me, and I was only a shell of a bride. It was someone elses wedding, I was just the woman in the role. It wasn’t my wedding. It was filled with rules of what was proper or suppose to happen.
After I got home, I drew a sketch of what my bouquet would look like. I used red and green pencil crayons , and I drew a picture of a small bouquet of red roses.
I called the florist, and said, “My bouquet will be red roses. I have drawn a sketch of what I want, I will put it in the mail today.”
It was my wedding; the bride wore white, and carried red roses.
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This little story is for Lisa-Jo Baker’s Five-Minute Friday using the word prompt, “red.”
Write for 5 minutes flat, no editing and share on her web-site. You can read other stories using the word prompt, “red,” on her site, Lisa-Jo Baker
