Dusty's Wedding

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear, a brand-new leaf that fell into Dusty’s lap like a gift she wasn’t expecting. Blinking against the light that poured in from her window, she peered outside and saw that it was a beautiful day. A day for picnics, the beach, bike rides. A day for weddings. Namely her own. But being Dusty and being sleepy, she forgot, sinking back into the comfort of her pillows until the phone’s insistent clamor brought her back to consciousness one hour later.
“Mmph..Hello?” Dusty answered, still face-down in the pillow.
“Don’t tell me you’re still asleep, Dusty. Your wedding is in an hour and you’re in bed?! Don’t you want to get married?” Her sister Daisy’s mile-a-minute monologue felt like nails being hammered into Dusty’s skull. Sleep was impossible at this point.
Dusty sighed and opened one green eye, staring at the picture frame propped on her night table. Dusty and her fiancé stared back at her, their smiles impenetrable. Did she want to get married? Was she absolutely sure…?

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