Aurora Magazine 2009

They Got Married

By Nona Beardsley

The room smelled like an old man’s sweater, musty warm, as burnt umber shag carpeting gnawed at the door, announcing arrivals. A window unit rumbled to action every few minutes, exaggerating its claim of cooling the office, providing the only conversation. A dress, white polka dots on navy polyester, blue sandal foot pantyhose, three rose wrist corsage hastily accepted from hands too young. A young man’s brown loafers and saggy tan leisure suit, almost new, a bachelor buttons boutonnière pinned with best wishes and a pearl headed needle. Best man and maid of honor missing the judge’s phone off the hook, as he wheezes and wait, unexpectedly, their parents stand in. Only thirty seven years between them, no wonder hush reigns and smiles less still. The cake, three layers, is traditionally cut. Both hold the knife, and take a slice, as secular vows and community properties promise, as the judge wheezes and the window unit chuckles. Polaroid boxes stacked like tchatchkes on the table.

Photophobia By Daniel Mitchell

You cloak yourself in shadows and sinister shades of grey, Trying your best to keep all traces of light far, far away. Once your daunting enemy, the darkness is now your friend, Dimness is your ally, and dusk fervently defends. The glow of the filament is your greatest fear, Glaring evil into the air, until in the mist it disappears. The streetlights of the city act as spotlights at the gate, Seperating the obscure alleys from their shadowy mates. Gloom is all you’ve know since you caught this awful fright, Photophobia they call it, or simply fear of light.