Part 1: the aisle, the bells and the chimes.
Clement:
I stand at the main door of the rooms they gave us. Two paths lead the way. One to the ballroom, and the other to the graveyard.
I straighten my the cuffs of my shirt, adjust the watch on my wrist and walk towards the ballroom where I was to be married. The path is not long. The path was long for me. I carefully took each step so as to not damage the polish on my shoes. But if today was going to be as dirty as any other day of my work, I should really not care about that dirt.
When the warm, sultry sea breeze hits my face, I know the time had come.
Decisions. I had to make decisions.
I hear the murmur of the few people who had gathered to watch me wed. My heart sounds equally loud to me, when I step inside the hall. And then I look up. Straight. To where he is, and I swear, I felt my heart leaping into my mouth because that is how he looked. That is how he made me feel. And that is what was the main problem.
I divert my gaze to the ground and walk towards him. My heart accelerated by the every second, and then, finally, I look up, and his eyes meet mine. Grey. Not the cold, bland grey you see when it is overcast and it won't rain; but the grey radiating out heat, like the ashes of burnt wood. He smiles when our eyes meet and I smile too. It's all involuntary, my smile.
As if it would help, I pat my pocket to check if the gun was still there. As if some miracle would take away the gun, as if I wouldn't have to face the dilemma, which, for me standing here, gazing into his eyes doesn't look like a dilemma anymore.
Do I shoot you, Winston? I think, as if he could listen.
