South By Southeast
“But Dad and Marcela didn’t mind or notice. They sat holding hands inside the art deco courthouse, posed beneath framed photographs of the Miami Beach mayor and President Barack Obama. Dad and Marcela were the only couple in wedding attire in the waiting area for the wedding room. Marcela had settled on wearing the same sparkling, clingy dress from her birthday party; the only addition was a partial veil pinned across her hair. The rest of the couples wore uniforms, jeans, shorts, or skirts and ...slacks from work, probably on their lunch hour. The younger couples had small children with them, fussing with sippy cups. Together they were fugitives from tradition, a portrait of collective courage.
“Smile,” Chela sad, snapping photos with her iPhone.
Marcela beamed. The women stared at her veil as if they wished they’d thought of wearing one, but without envy. Good for her, their gazes said.
A lady friend of mine, Alice, would have pointed out how the tacky wood paneling and too-bright fluorescent light overhead killed some of the romance.MoreLess
“Smile,” Chela sad, snapping photos with her iPhone.
Marcela beamed. The women stared at her veil as if they wished they’d thought of wearing one, but without envy. Good for her, their gazes said.
A lady friend of mine, Alice, would have pointed out how the tacky wood paneling and too-bright fluorescent light overhead killed some of the romance.MoreLess
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