Challenge 20: My wedding

The sun shone out of the clear sky onto my yellow dress.

Everyone thinks their wedding should've been perfect. I've actually been to a couple that 'ere perfect, so I know they're real.

I even told 'im he could just turn up in nice pants and a shirt. Something that matched. The problem with Johnny is, he's too laid-back, and he took this as meaning blue jeans and a denim jacket.

I'm pretty pissed off at whoever said the bride and groom shouldn't see each other before the wedding. I'm even more pissed off at Johnny. And tha's quite something, because most people say I'm a cheery sorta gal.

I chucked me bouquet at him, ya know. After I walked up the aisle and managed to get me veil outta my face, and saw what my Johnny was wearing. All those daffodils and daisies raining on his head, and him standing there not knowing what he done wrong. Then off I stormed out of the church and nearly fell in the stream, crossing the bridge. Flopped down on the pebbles on the stream bank and stared at the sky.

Me mam came after me, and then Johnny. I threw Ma's hat at 'im and all them canary feathers or whatever she had in there rained on his head too, and serve him right. Then it was his turn to storm off, and mam after him scowling like anything at me - at me, when he's the one that turns up in jeans to 'is own wedding.

Ah, but me poor Johnny's just a sailor lad, and I guess he don't know any better.

So I'm lyin' there staring at the sky, and then at the church where I can see in the stained glass, th' Virgin Mary with her halo is lookin' at me reproachfully. Aw, ok, she's lookin' at Baby Jesus in her arms, but I don't mind admitting I felt kinda bad then. Mebbe the Virgin Mary brought out all my motherly instincts, like, and I felt sorry for 'im and 'is little sister - she was there too, standing on the other side of the bridge in her little baby blue dress lookin' after me and lookin' away when she knew I was lookin' - growing up without a mam. Who's to tell Johnny he oughtn't wear jeans to 'is wedding? Poor thing. If 'nything, this shows jest why 'e needs to be married to a good sens'ble wife.

That's when I ran after him - up to his car that he'd painted royal for the occasion, and jumped in the front seat and ripped me garter off and chucked it at 'im too - well why not, after I'd chucked flowers an' feathers? An' that's how we scandalised the whole church.

I don' think the Virgin Mary gives a toss though, or she wouldn'a thought of it.

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Word count: 481

I'm not sure what the colours contribute to the story - the original idea was that blue was more laid back and calm, while yellow was cheerful and exciteable. I think I gave up on that in favour of getting something written :P

Challenge 20: Leaving home

“You don’t understand, I have to be packed and ready to go inside the next hour!”

“But Jimmy will be home by himself otherwise.”

“Mom! I’m going to Australia so you’re going to have to figure that one out for yourself in future.”

Her eyes went all sparkly, like she might start crying.

One, two, three ruby roses on her necklace. Don’t think about making mum cry. They looked expensive, probably a loan from work since she definitely didn’t earn enough to buy something like that. Just turn around and walk away, she’ll be okay. Mum looked amazing in her slinky scarlet gown and ruby slippers. She probably would have been the prettiest one at the company Christmas party. Well it wasn’t my fault she couldn’t go any more. I had already warned her three weeks ago that I was going to be spending Christmas with Dad and Grandma in Aussie. She could have arranged a babysitter for James, but instead she did what she always did, pretend that the things she didn’t like weren’t happening at all.

I left her standing all mute and gummed up in the lounge and retreated upstairs to my room. Sitting on the edge of my underwater bedspread, I wondered if I would miss her when I moved to Australia more permanently next year. That was another thing she was pretending wouldn’t happen. I hauled my aqua Barbie suitcase out from under all the junk in my wardrobe and made a face, promising myself a new suitcase as soon as I got a descent summer job. It was just embarrassing, trundling this thing behind me through the Sydney Airport every time I wanted to visit dad. I think it was mum’s punishment for my betrayal, every time I went over there.

I pushed that thought aside. Focus on packing. There couldn’t be that much to take. Christmas was in the middle of summer in Australia and people wore as little as possible. I chucked in my navy swim-team one-piece, hoping dad might shout me a new, flashier bikini as a Christmas present, but wanting to be prepared just in case. A couple of pairs of blue and white boardies and a t-shirt advertising diet Pepsi and I was pretty much set in the clothing department. I remembered my phone charger and toothbrush, but I didn’t need much more than that. Grandma’s philosophy around my visits was to come with an empty suitcase and go home with a full one and that suited me just fine.

I trundled the bag out into the corridor, tensing again as soon as I left my room. Crossing from my soothing steel-gray carpet into the fiery red of the hallway was like giving away any illusion of having my own space. I was in her world from here to the front door. I just hoped the taxi wasn’t late.

Wordcount: 480

Challenge 20

Colors

Write an exercise in which you repeatedly use two different primary colors. Describe these colors without naming them too often - and try to find effective synonyms for the colors without being too obvious about this disguise. Repetition of anything alien to the human elements of a story is bound to influence the way the story sinks into the readers mind. How would red and yellow, appearing over and over again in drapes, carpets, clothes, hand-made ashtrays, or toilet bowls, affect you as a reader? If you know anything about the meaning or symbolism of colors, choose your pair of hues well to play off emotions against each other (red for anger; blue for passivity). Apply this exercise to a situation with which you're already frustrated.

Wordcount: 500 (+/- 10%)