Sunday, 3 July 2016

Chances Are



There’s only so many ways it could have gone, in my mind. A volcano was not about to suddenly erupt, aliens weren’t going to choose this moment to invade, no miniscule probability event would occur and ruin this.

She’d either say “Yes, I’ll marry you”, “No, I won’t marry you” or she’d dither. Those were the three options, and I was prepared for all three, as I took the knee, pulled out the ring, and asked.

She didn’t say yes.

She didn’t say no.

I suppose you could say her having a heart attack was dithering, but that’s splitting hairs.

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