FOOD It is ten minutes to eight. I’ve taken my place at the table before time in order to savour every moment of anticipation. I have seen the door open and shut thirty times already; each time the suspense mounts. This is the restaurant to which the prospective groom is coming. Here’s where we shall relish the best blancmange in town. What is to come? I know not. I feel at once, the delicious and tumultuous jostle of anxiety, uncertainty, possibility and speculation. But I don’t want to be tethered, pinioned; I tremble, I quiver. I walk out the door again.
Sue Clayton
27/2/2021 01:28:43 am
Is she the bride in an arranged marriage trying to see what her future fate may look like?
Smita Bajaj
17/3/2021 05:15:13 am
Depicts trepidation of bride to be so well Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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