The light from her phone screen illuminates her face, pale. 4:32 am. It’s about to be a long day.

Mother will be in her room any second now ,to say prayers with her - because it’s about to be a long life. 

Then it will be brushing her teeth.

taking a shower.

sitting for the makeup artist.

first coffee. 

getting dressed. 

photos.

second coffee. 

something to eat - even if she isn’t hungry.

By then, it should be midday, an hour to the start of the ceremony. Now it will be things she can’t control: 

her bouquet staying fresh.

her makeup holding.

the photos coming out well.

her aunts staying away from each others throats. the right song playing so she can walk down the aisle.

him,  standing at the end of it. 

She knows he won’t show. Over the last couple of months, whenever she imagined this day, he never showed. He said he wouldn’t.

Something, something about how he is with someone else now. Something, something nurturing spirit.

What the fuck? 

Is this because she killed his plants while he was away? 

She presses the button on the side of her phone. The dark screen lights up again. 4:40am.