Vrai Writes (Parts of) Books – 12,000 Hour Day

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The heat outside is dreadful, summer vacation has started, and the cavalcade of summer weddings is well underway. I’m pleased all over to announce the release of my short story, “12,000 Day,” as part of Torquere Press’ They Do anthology!

After weeks of putting things off, Devon and Sarah have come down to the big day. The big day for planning the big day, anyway. As Devon runs the gauntlet of flowers, cakes, and dresses, all she can think about is how she got here. How did deciding to spend the rest of her life with the woman she loves turn into a the stuff of reality-show nightmares?

It’s available on Amazon as an individual story or in a collected anthology format. Want to see an excerpt? Check just below the cut, and a pleasant week to one and all.

The Morning, as Devon had taken to calling it long before she’d stopped going to the various appointments, started with a breakfast of too many courses. It was Sarah’s way of coaxing, and only rarely did it fail to work. Today was no failure, though Devon wore her protest in terms of a faded band camp shirt and bedraggled denim. “Think I should’ve gone with flannel?”

 

A grin tugged Sarah’s face despite herself, and was quickly hidden by an incoming forkful of pancake. The squares are stacked four high, straining their way nearly off the tips of the diner’s fairly mangled fork. “You’re sure you never thought about being an actress?”

 

“Nah.” Devon’s own plate is a charade of health, all egg whites and something that was once vaguely green. She had already swiped the bacon from Sarah’s plate. “You’re mistaking acting with my need to piss people off.” Though considering the actors she’d known, the distinction wasn’t very far off.

 

Mid-rant, Sarah had lifted half the contents of the healthy breakfast’s food bowl, nodding all the while in a studied approximation of a therapist. She left Devon the pineapple. “Is that why you convinced Bev that you could rewire the whole reception area for a light show?” One of the stolen grapes dipped beneath a swirl of syrup.

 

“No.” It seemed like that was all she was saying lately. “That was because she wouldn’t shut up about it. And we’re the first lesbian couple she’s planned for, remember? It was really subtle, she only mentioned it six times. I wanted to make sure I lived up to her expectations.”

 

“Some of the stuff she’s done is really nice.”

 

There was never enough food to cover up for her stupid mouth. “No, yeah, I know. The view from that balcony at the reception’s really great. Your parents wouldn’t recommend us somebody bad. No way they could’ve known how annoying she was gonna be.” She nudged one of the prized pineapple spears over to the other side of the table and bumped Sarah’s knee with her own, feeling the awkward friction of jeans and tights. Her stomach burbled and complained, envying the syrup that made no dent on the flat surface under Sarah’s sweater.

 

“It’s only for a few more months. Then you never have to see her again.” Sarah was biting her lip again, trying to tuck hair she didn’t have any more behind her ear. It’s how Devon could always tell when they teetered between teasing and tears.

 

“Goddamn, I’m in love with you right now.” Devon’s occupied leg hooked them closer together, pressing their knees flush against each other. Partners.

 

“We have to be at the flower shop in twenty minutes.” The words were accompanied by a knocking of knees. I love you too, and we’re in public.

 

Like she didn’t already know. She’d picked a place with tablecloths for a reason.

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