Never a Bride
12 Jan 2019Today’s prompt: “You are looking down through the skylight as chefs prepare dinner for your ex-fiancé’s wedding.”
If you can’t be happy, then no one can.
That’s why you’re on the roof kitted out like someone in a spy thriller who’s about to be lowered through the ceiling and do a bunch of flips past the lasers surrounding a giant gemstone.
You watch through a skylight as one of the caterers arranges salad on small plates, while another chef double-checks the temperature on the prime rib. You pat the pocket where you’ve tucked a small bottle of potent poison and scan the room, looking for something clearly intended for the bride and groom – no, not the bride and groom. Your former fiancé and your former friend. Anyhow. Maybe a pair of specialty champagne glasses for the toast. Something like that. It would be nice not to have to kill everyone at the reception, but god help you, you will spike the gravy if you have to.
The brunette caterer in the ponytail has left the room with some salad plates, but now there’s another chef in there, a woman with a blond pageboy, who seems to be working on some rice pilaf. The remaining chef, a stout man with a shaved head, is now carving the prime rib. It looks succulent.
This is going to be tricky. You’re going to have to find some point in time where not all the food has been served to the wedding party’s table yet, but all the caterers are out of the room. You shift your weight and absently touch your pocket again. And that’s when you hear the crack. Then a crunch.
The glass shatters and you tumble to the floor of the wedding venue’s kitchen, to the great shock of the chefs. In other circumstances, the fall might not have been fatal, but this place got great Yelp reviews for, among other things, its high ceilings.