Opening Lines — Wedding

Thanks, Margaret S. Hamilton, for letting us use this photograph!

Margaret: I took it on a cold, windy September day in Chicago, watching the bridal parties line up for a photo opp in the middle of North Michigan Avenue, the Chicago skyline behind them. Photoshopping would have been much easier.
Edith: I had to come back for my bestie’s wedding, even though the witness protection guys told me not to, but I wish I hadn’t worn those black strappy sandals – I couldn’t move fast enough to avoid being photographed!

Julie: It was the perfect set up. He’d get them to pose for a picture while I rifled through the bags in the car, stealing all the cash. The one time I improvise just a little bit, and grab a pair of earrings, bingo bongo bungo. We’re on the lam. Did that look like a mob wedding to you?

Barb: I just did WHUT?

Jessie: Posing as a wedding party was a brilliant way to take photos for the bank job we were planning.

Sherry: I bit my nails almost down to the quick. If the photographer jerked his thumb one more time my sister, wedding dress or not, was going to take it off.

Liz: I saw him coming before he saw me, and had to think fast. Luckily, a wedding party was posing for a picture, and my snazzy suit blended right in. I just hoped he didn’t start shooting at me and take out the newlyweds.

Readers: Add your own mysterious opening line for the photograph!

Margaret S. Hamilton has published short stories in Kings River Life and the Darkhouse Destination: Mystery! anthology. When she’s not photographing her garden, she’s revising the first two novels in her proposed Lavender Cottage Interiors series. Margaret lives in Cincinnati with her scientist husband and two standard poodles. She has three children.

15 Thoughts

  1. The camera was locked and loaded. There would be no survivors.

  2. “Oh my god, there’s a run on the bank!”
    And suddenly, the wedding didn’t seem so important.

  3. I know she’s the bride, but we have a schedule to keep. If she doesn’t get in line for the pictures, I’m going to kill her!

  4. Chicago. The Windy City. I blended into the crowd of gawkers behind the photographer, and watched as he shuffled the wedding party this way and that. Suddenly an errant wedding veil came sailing past and hit the Maid of Honor square in the face. She dropped like a rock. Was it deliberate or an accident? And if it was deliberate, was it meant for her or for the bride?

  5. This bow tie and tux gives me the swagger I need to blend in with the wedding party. I’m so glad Max insisted I wear it to get the job done. They’d better hurry up with these pictures so I can get inside. I’m not about to pay The Men’s Warehouse for an extra day in this getup.

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