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Stephanie Krug

The morning drizzle had cleared away just in time, leaving
the kirkyard glistening with silver dew. The wedding took
place inside of a tiny stone church, and it was beautiful. There
were bouquets on every surface and ribbons tied to every
hook and knob. The families of the bride and groom had
traveled from near and far to witness the union and had put a
great deal of work into planning and decorating for the special
day.

Clarissa, however, did not care about any of this.
In fact, she found the whole affair dreadfully dull,
especially now that her moment to shine had fizzled out into a
disappointing and mildly embarrassing failure. In the months
prior, Clarissa had been thrilled at the news of a trip to a
foreign country for her grown-up cousin’s wedding, where she
would be honored with the title of Flower Girl and be given a
beautiful dress to wear as she threw rose petals to the crowd,
like a queen tossing jewels to her adoring subjects. In reality,
her role in the wedding took all of a minute.
Clarissa had stepped into the nave of the church.
Everyone was standing, turned to face the entrance, and
smiling. Not a single face belonged to someone she knew, and
for a moment, she wondered if she had stumbled into the
wrong wedding. The music called her forward along a white
carpet stretching all the way to the altar steps. She stared
straight ahead as she walked, trying to keep herself from
running to find her mother. There were a few aws from the
crowd as Clarissa cast the first flower petals from her basket
onto the aisle. The petals stuck together and fell flat on the
floor in small red clumps.
Before Clarissa had even made it to the front pews, she
reached into her basket only to find that it was empty. Some
people had giggled and one man whispered, “Uh oh!” as

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