64
" FatherMichael has entered the room
Wildflower: Ah don’t tell me you’re through a divorce yourself Father?
SureOne: Don’t be silly Wildflower, have a bit of respect! He’s here for the ceremony.
Wildflower: I know that. I was just trying to lighten the atmosphere.
FatherMichael: So have the loving couple arrived yet?
SureOne: No but it’s customary for the bride to be late.
FatherMichael: Well is the groom here?
SingleSam has entered the room
Wildflower: Here he is now. Hello there SingleSam. I think this is the first time ever that both the bride and groom will have to change their names.
SingleSam: Hello all.
Buttercup: Where’s the bride?
LonelyLady: Probably fixing her makeup.
Wildflower: Oh don’t be silly. No one can even see her.
LonelyLady: SingleSam can see her.
SureOne: She’s not doing her makeup; she’s supposed to keep the groom waiting.
SingleSam: No she’s right here on the laptop beside me. She’s just having problems with her password logging in.
SureOne: Doomed from the start.
Divorced_1 has entered the room
Wildflower: Wahoo! Here comes the bride, all dressed in . . .
SingleSam: Black.
Wildflower: How charming.
Buttercup: She’s right to wear black.
Divorced_1: What’s wrong with misery guts today?
LonelyLady: She found a letter from Alex that was written 12 years ago proclaiming his love for her and she doesn’t know what to do.
Divorced_1: Here’s a word of advice. Get over it, he’s married. Now let’s focus the attention on me for a change.
SoOverHim has entered the room
FatherMichael: OK let’s begin. We are gathered here online today to witness the marriage of SingleSam (soon to be “Sam”) and Divorced_1 (soon to be “Married_1”).
SoOverHim: WHAT?? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?
THIS IS A MARRIAGE CEREMONY IN A DIVORCED PEOPLE CHAT ROOM??
Wildflower: Uh-oh, looks like we got ourselves a gate crasher here. Excuse me can we see your wedding invite please?
Divorced_1: Ha ha.
SoOverHim: YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY? YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SICK, COMING IN HERE AND TRYING TO
UPSET OTHERS WHO ARE GENUINELY TROUBLED.
Buttercup: Oh we are genuinely troubled alright. And could you please STOP SHOUTING.
LonelyLady: You see SoOverHim, this is where SingleSam and Divorced_1 met for the first time.
SoOverHim: OH I HAVE SEEN IT ALL NOW!
Buttercup: Sshh!
SoOverHim: Sorry. Mind if I stick around?
Divorced_1: Sure grab a pew; just don’t trip over my train.
Wildflower: Ha ha.
FatherMichael: OK we should get on with this; I don’t want to be late for my 2 o’clock. First I have to ask, is there anyone in here who thinks there is any reason why these two should not be married?
LonelyLady: Yes.
SureOne: I could give more than one reason.
Buttercup: Hell yes.
SoOverHim: DON’T DO IT!
FatherMichael: Well I’m afraid this has put me in a very tricky predicament.
Divorced_1: Father we are in a divorced chat room, of course they all object to marriage. Can we get on with it?
FatherMichael: Certainly. Do you Sam take Penelope to be your lawful wedded wife?
SingleSam: I do.
FatherMichael: Do you Penelope take Sam to be your lawful wedded husband?
Divorced_1: I do (yeah, yeah my name is Penelope).
FatherMichael: You have already e-mailed your vows to me so by the online power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride. Now if the witnesses could click on the icon to the right of the screen they will find a form to type their names, addresses, and phone numbers. Once that’s filled in just e-mail it off to me. I’ll be off now. Congratulations again.
FatherMichael has left the room
Wildflower: Congrats Sam and Penelope!
Divorced_1: Thanks girls for being here.
SoOverHim: Freaks.
SoOverHim has left the room "
― Cecelia Ahern , Love, Rosie
66
" Apollo watched me closely, intently. “No.”
My eyes narrowed. “No to what?”
“I’m not sending you after them. Not yet,” he said, surprising me into silence—a rarity. “I have another task for you. You need to leave for southern Virginia immediately. I’d snap your sunshine-and-rainbows ass there, but now that you’ve annoyed me, you’ll drive the twenty or so hours to get there.”
Okay. That was irritating, but I kind of liked road trips, so whatever. “What’s in southern Virginia?”
“Radford University.”
I waited.
I waited some more, and then sighed. “Okay. You want me to enroll in college?” I asked, and Apollo tipped back his head and laughed so loudly, he actually whooped. I frowned. “What the hell is so funny about that idea?”
“You. College. Using your head. That’s what’s funny.”
I was seconds away from blasting him with akasha. "
― Jennifer L. Armentrout , The Return (Titan, #1)
70
" He pulled the gun from his waist, running it along my cheek and back down to my lips. I blinked back the tears at sick game. He finally stopped the gun at my temple, my pulse fighting against the pressure of the cold metal of the gun.
“Do you think you are a good person, Kendall?”
“No, not at all,” I said, swallowing down the misery of my honest answer.
“Really?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting in confusion. “Are you afraid to die?”
I wished I could spit in his face for making everything so hard. I wished he would just pull the trigger and end it already. But a small part of me was begging and pleading internally that he wouldn’t shoot me.
“No, I’m not afraid to die,” I admitted, I closed my eyes and the tears fell quickly. “I’m not afraid of much in life. I’ve seen too much to be scared.”
He let out a sigh. I opened my eyes. He pulled the gun away from me.
“Well, damn. How the hell am I supposed to kill someone so miserable?”
I looked away. Even in death I was pitiful. "
― Holly Hood
73
" It was so stupid, and random, but at that second, with the morning sun hitting her auburn hair, and her huge brown eyes fixed on him, the lock flew off the “do-not-allow-yourself-to-even-think-about-it” portion of his brain, and every feeling he ever had for her—feelings he never even realized he had for her—flooded over him like a tidal wave. Love, tenderness, desire—it hit him so hard he had to excuse himself, go to the men’s room, rest his forehead against the cool metal of the bathroom stall, breathing heavily, wondering what the hell had just happened. It left him exhausted and spent, as if he’d just run a hundred miles.And almost a year later, he was still exhausted, spent, frustrated … and madly in love. "
77
" I hear civilians saying we’re all heroes, heard someone… was it Arthur Godfrey on Armed Forces Radio? I can’t recall, but it’s nonsense anyway. If everyone is a hero, then no one is. Others say everyone below ground is a hero, but a lot of those were just green kids who spent an hour or a day on the battlefield before standing up when they shouldn’t have, or stepping where they shouldn’t have stepped. If there’s something heroic about stand up to scratch your ass and having some Kraut sniper ventilate your head, I guess I don’t see it.
If by “hero”, you mean one of those soldiers who will follow an order to rush a Kraut machine gun or stuff a grenade in a tank hatch, well, that’s closer to meaning something. But the picture in your imagination, Gentle Reader, may not bear much similarity to reality. I knew a guy who did just that—jumped up on a Tiger tank and dropped a grenade (or was it two?) down the hatch. Blew the hell out of it too. But he’d just gotten a Dear John letter from his fiancée in the same batch of mail that informed him his brother had been killed. So I guess it was eight on the line between heroism and suicide. "
― Michael Grant , Silver Stars (Front Lines, #2)