The Approach

James was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for at least three hours before he gave up on sleep. This was weird. Today was weird. Tomorrow was going to be weird.

He barely knew this girl. He had met her years ago, had talked to her countless times, but still knew so little about who she was. Hell, he didn't know her favorite color. He didn't know if she could see color. Was it rude to ask someone if they were color blind? Was he about to get married to someone color blind and not know it? Did that change anything?

It most certainly didn't make it less weird.

The wedding had not been well planned. Until recently, James' wedding plans were simple: don't have one. And she... She was not the sort of person to obsess over her wedding. She had other things to worry about.

Was this binding? Was he about to get married for the only time he was allowed to? To her? And tomorrow?

This was weird.

James sighed and sat up in bed. Weird or not, it was happening. And he'd be there. And he'd say yes. He had promised. He kept his promises. It was what had gotten him fired from his last three jobs - he refused to break a promise to get what he needed.

He got out from the covers and staggered into the kitchen, pawing around for anything mildly hallucinogenic. Weird things went down easier if you were already talking to the plants. The clock blinked over to 5:00.

Five AM. Wow.

Giving up on his search, James flipped the switch on his coffeemaker. If there was nothing else around, he could at least hope to be hopped up enough that the words would just fall out.

Four hours until the wedding. Wow.

When the pot was finally empty, James brewed another. And a third.

Eventually, though, he stopped drinking. He had to go get ready.

After all, he had promised.


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An America Story

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