A grey rain fell from a blank sky, slicking the asphalt so that it hissed when his Volkswagen's wheels rolled over it. His heart beat an aching, urgent tattoo in his chest, urging the car to accelerate further, for the monotonously bleak landscape to blur past the window faster. He could practically hear the fatalistic wedding bells tolling as he drove, ringing out his desperation.
He wasn't going to make it. He was too late, far too late.
The apathetic drizzle had begun to escalate into a full-fledged downpour and besieged his window-wipers, nearly causing him to rear-end a sluggish trailer ahead of him. It was almost completely veiled from sight by the curtains of water. The man's foot practically slammed the break, moments before he would have added another dent to the discolored vehicle. A frustrated swear escaped his lips and he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of the black suit he had splurged on simply for the chance, the possibility that he could reach her in time. It was suitable for both a wedding or a funeral—he supposed only time would tell which it would be.
He maneuvered his car gingerly around the trailer with jerky, anxious movements. Once he was free of its speed limit he put on speed, disregarding the safety measures that would typically be taken during driving in this sort of deluge. Water fizzed under his tires and he took deep, shuddering breaths as he continued to drive, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.
Flat moors morphed into mountains and mountains morphed into the destitute buildings that tended to cling to the outside of city sprawls. He was almost there. A day's drive with practically no pitstops, all for her.
The anxious knot in his stomach had begun to loosen. He wasn't far now. Soon he would reach her, be able to tell her, to warn her. He imagined her being fussed at by her bridesmaids and mother and aunts as the ceremony crept closer and closer, how beautiful she would look in her dress, blissfully unaware of the monster she would be legally yoked to in just under half an hour.
He was so caught up in his fantasy that he nearly drove straight into a moving train. His brakes slammed on just in time and he grimaced as he jerked forwards, the slack in his seatbelt tightening just in time to keep his forehead from connecting with the steering wheel.
The train took its time. Graffiti and metal blurred past and yet there seemed to be no end in sight. His jaw tightened to a degree at which he believed his teeth would crack as he listened to the seconds tick away with every swipe of the window-wipers that still swept back and forth even though the rain had ceased almost an hour before. After a seemingly immeasurable stretch of time passed he cracked, slamming his hand on the wheel and allowing profanities to spray from his lips.
His head slumped down to press against the steering wheel, defeated. His throat hurt from yelling even for a short time and his heart had sunk to his stomach. Of course, it was only then that the train passed and the gates lifted.
Uncaring of how many speed limits and traffic rules he broke, the Volkswagen sped to the church. The clouds had cleared above it, leaving a blue halo to bless her falsely holy, joyous day. He had to tell her, he had to tell her, he had to tell her, he chanted to himself with every step. Out of the car, onto the sidewalk, up the stairs, to the church door. Would she still be getting ready? Where would he find her?
As it happened, it was much easier to find her than he thought. She stood at the altar, her hands in his. He was too late.
The church doors slammed behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the aisle, shoulders slumped in defeat. His eyes met his, and that devil of a man smiled smugly at him, while she looked at him expressionlessly, as if she barely knew him at all.
Wedding bells rang in his ears.
No comments:
Post a Comment