Something a bit different today. Not erotic – at all – but just something to show myself I can write other things than erotica…
The stairs creaked and Hannah suppressed a giggle. The veil tickled her nose and she had trouble looking through the black lace, but it was all that had been available. White lace was impossible to find now that the government had banned the colour white, and her mother had been too poor to buy a cream coloured veil for her. It didn’t matter. She was getting married and Avi never cared much for what she wore anyhow. He was far more interested in what lay beneath the clothes.
Her mother peeked down from the top stairs. She would not come to see Hannah get married. She would not leave the house, hadn’t left it since the bombs had started falling. ‘It will be a lovely ceremony, dear,’ she had said upon first learning of the wedding. ‘You don’t need me there.’ No matter how much Hannah had pleaded, it had done no good.
She reached the last staircase. Avi was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, his face aglow with happiness. He turned his cap in his hands, a nervous tick she knew so well. ‘You look lovely,’ he said, stretching his hand out to her. She smiled at him, even though he could not see her face behind the dark veil. She reached out to him and stepped towards his embrace. Too late she realised she had not reached the bottom of the stairs yet. Her leg stepped into air and she went down, her veil flying away from her face.
She thought, ‘Oh no, he mustn’t see my face before we are married’ and tried to grab her veil. The act of vanity cost her her life as her head hit the stairs and she broke her neck.