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Jordan had called RoseMarie's office early that morning to cancel hisappointment, but the office was closed. 'We're closed on Thursday's andSunday's' said the answering-machine message. Jordan had left a messagecancelling his appointment anyway, just in case."I understand you're nervous," Samantha said gently. She put her armaround Jordan's waist and gently but firmly led him deeper into the caveof femininity which was the bridal store. With each passing step, Jordanfelt more and more committed. They passed a series of racks into an innersection which was more hidden from view. The racks this deep into thestore felt even more overstuffed and enclosing. Jordan felt as if wallsof fabric were pressing into him."But it's okay," Samantha encouraged. "All new brides are nervous aboutdress shopping! It's nothing to be ashamed of. Now, who is the lucky manand when is your special day? I'm sure we can find just the perfect dressto make you look amazing." Oh!" Jordan said, finally coming to his. So thank you.Me: Hmm, alright, now go, get freshen up. I have ordered your favorite food for dinner tonight.Satish: Wow! Really?! Well, then I think I have to wear some good clothes as you are looking drop-dead gorgeous in that dress.Me (blushing): Okay, okay, now stop. Go and get freshen up. Till then, I am gonna serve the food on the plates.Satish then straight away went to the washroom, which is attached to our bedroom, to get freshen up. I knew that I had about 10 minutes in my hand. So I quickly took out the candles, lit them. I placed them on the table, then dimmed the living room lights and turned on some soft romantic 90’s music.I made the whole thing look like that same date on which Satish proposed to me. I made it look like that because I crave that boyfriend Satish of mine. His humor, craziness, touch, and the way he used to make me feel when I was around him. And tonight, I want him to become that carefree guy again.After a few minutes, Satish came out of our bedroom. He.
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“What’s happening? What’s going on? What’s happening?” “I don’t know,” admitted Sharon, conscious only that whatever it was, it was dangerous and potentially lethal. The noise and confusion only intensified. The gunfire became an almost continuous rattle as it progressed to machine guns and hand automatics. Every few moments there was a shriek or a thump or a crash. The tent was illuminated after and during each new noise, and Sharon could see Sweetness in those few instances lit up and crouched. She despaired. “I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!” she moaned unable to hear her own voice over the cacophony, and distantly aware of similar shrieks and cries erupting from Sweetness. Sharon rolled herself into a ball, hid her head into her arms and like a mantra moaned: “Die! I’m gonna. Die!” She could hear soldiers running about outside. At one stage, the tent shook as a body fell against it and then slumped to the ground. Sharon yelped with terror. When would she be next? “Sharon! Sharon!”.

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