Joiner |

She’s floating down the aisle in a white dress. Other than that, nothing feels like it’s supposed to.

The gaudy orange bouquet at the altar. The strangers staring at her from the pews. The frog in a tux coming closer with every swishing step.

Ever since she got her braces off, she has wanted to sparkle. Why should she settle for domestic life? Why believe the old lie that he can change?

She should have joined the circus instead of this fairy tale nonsense. But with what skills?

I could grow a beard, she thinks as she turns to run.

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“I write to make something bearable, maybe even beautiful, out of this messy life.” – the writer