Word count: 100
Alan’s finger idled through the bar chimes. He stared at the wall and wondered what he might have for dinner.
Two months ago, Rachel had pouted in the doorway: “I want something Beatle-esque.”
Then, she’d eyed the room with distaste.
“And, I want this room back after we’re married.”
She had flounced off to continue preparations – buying the dress; choosing the bouquet; finding the location, and deciding who sat where. His only job (except to show up) was to create the music for them to exit the church to.
Alan sighed. The only song that provided inspiration was “Yesterday”.