by Maddie M. White
I look at the newspaper clipping that is held to the wall by a thumbtack. Beside the article is my calendar. Big red X's mark every passing day until this one.
I can't eat or sleep. I put one foot in front of the other and walk to the park down the block. I contemplate going to her apartment, but I don't. It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Even after knowing her for the majority of my life, I can't stop myself from the overwhelming anxiety that encompasses my entire body. I don't realize how far I've been walking, but I don't care either.
A large rain drop falls on my shoulder. The dark skies open. I run to the hotel across the street and stand under the brown and gold striped awning. It can't rain today. I've checked the weather for weeks. It has to be perfect.
I walk to the tailor's shop. It's a smaller shop. One man does the work and runs the store. There is a jingle of the bells and he appears from behind the curtains and motions for me to come to him.
"Big day today." He says. I run my hands down my sides and let them rest at my thighs. My palms feel like they could fill up buckets with sweat.
I trudge back to my apartment carrying my tux in the plastic bag. The rain has stopped and the sun is beaming down. Steam rises from the asphalt.