Air and light

A party in the country, UK, 2018

A party in the country, UK, 2018

Writing Prompt No. 112

The bride and groom stood posing and being posed for the photographs they would keep for life.

The photographer skipped around them his jacket fluttering in the wake of his movement. He was working hard for his money today. His assistant held reflectors, adjusted the tripod when necessary and swapped the camera battery out for a fresh one. The faces of the happy couple ached from the smiles they’d maintained for hours.

“Enough,” said the bride. “Enough. I don’t want to do this any longer.”

The groom ushered the photographer out of the room despite his protests.

The bride slumped down in a chair dress fabric rustling around her. She put her thumbs inside the top of her bodice and wiggled it around her breasts.

“Christ, this thing’s so tight,” she said.

“Just a bit longer, Lily, and then we’ll have it. The video to end all videos.”

Lily looked at Stephen.

“Is this really what we want? Our whole life online? Everything about us picked at, examined, analysed?” She leant into the chair back and prised each shoe off with her toes. “I’m so tired.”

“But the money, Lily! Come on! It’s more than Hello offered us. More than we’ve ever dreamed of.”

“Jesus, Stephen. They want to film the birth of our first child! Post it on IGTV! I’m not even pregnant yet!”

Lily was up now pacing the room. She picked up a bottle of champagne, twisted off the foil wrapper and pushed at the cork until it popped out and hit the wall in front of her. The sudden noise and burst of fizzing alcohol made her jump. She took a swig from the bottle wiping away the bubbles of liquid that travelled down her chin. She laughed, her mouth wide and open.

“FUCK THIS.” she said sweeping her hand around the room. “AND FUCK YOU.” Stephen’s eyes widened with alarm as Lily marched out the door, champagne bottle in hand, dress bustling behind her.

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