Honey, I love you so much! I want to be with you forever. You mean more than theworld to me. The thought of losing you would be too much for my mind to imagine.I want to have children with you. I want anniversaries and birthdays andChristmases and my entire life spent with you. I am on my knees, asking if youwill marry me. The wedding will be so beautiful. Your parents and mine, all ourrelatives together, but most of all us together as one.

Alicia rememberedthose summer words, those beautiful, and warm words. Those words had meant somuch to her then, under the warm heat of the sun, now mocked her pain. As thesnow fell about her, tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembered saying yes.Yes, to this wonderful man who promised her his love, his soul, and hisworld.

Yes, yes was all she had said, all she thought would be needed tosecure them together forever. She had bought a beautiful white dress with pinkruffles, pink crepe paper, wedding banners and she had received a whole bunch ofgifts from her wedding shower.

Alicia pulled to the curb, at the side of atall building She got out of her Oldsmobile, noticing the orange brownish ruston its side. What an old, tired looking car she thought, kind of like me. Old,tired, sad and used. Alicia stared at the deep red brick wall her apartmentbuilding was made of. Then her eyes glanced down at the dusty, gravel road. Shesighed, and picked up the package of pink balloons and plastic flowers andcarried them to her apartment on the eighth floor.

She was glad to be homeand not in front of the mournful eyes and sorrowful gazes of the townspeople. Shegot a surplus of sympathy from her parents and in-laws-to-be. They held handswith her at the wake and wept side by side at the funeral. She appreciated theircare and concern. She knew they wondered why she still kept three boxes of ricein her cupboard. They couldn't bring him back. But Alicia made up her mind thatshe could go to him.

She took a shower and washed and blow driedher hair as she remembered to plug in her curlers. She searched her cupboards toget everything she would need - the boxes of rice, the crepe paper, balloons,banners and a plastic bouquet. It took an hour to arrange everything just so. Shewas just about to put the curlers in her hair when she remembered the besttradition of all at a wedding, the cake. She rushed around her small apartmentsearching for ingredients to this special cake. The cake was hastily puttogether. Some of the batter flopped on the ground, but she knew she didn't havea lot of time. It had two layers of vanilla cake with pink store-bought icing andtwo candles to represent a bride and groom. "This will do," she said tothe empty room. She rushed around and curled her hair and put on the new weddingdress for the occasion. It was 9:15 with everything in place. She turned on thewedding march music.

All by herself in her apartment, she marched down anaisle of furniture stepping delicately on a red blanket. Alicia in a deep voicesaid, " Dearly beloved, we are gathered together this day to finally reunitethese two as one." She continued to use a deep manly voice throughout thewhole wedding ceremony. And when she was done, she went over to the window, andopened it all the way.

The city lights and buzzing cars invited her on hernew journey. She checked the time - it was almost 9:35, the time when the policesaid the car hit her future husband. In her left hand she took a handful of rice;Alicia looked at the pink two-candle cake. "What's a wedding without acake?" she said to the rice. She put the cake in her right hand and wenttoward the window sill. She pulled up both her feet on the ledge. Looking downshe said in a whisper "I now pronounce you husband and wife, the two shallbecome one." Cake in one hand and rice in the other, she threw the rice upin the air. As Alicia watched the rice fly up the side of the building,her feet followed the motion of the rice . . .

The policeman checked hiswatch to write down the time and date. He put the time 10:00 o'clock next to thewords "apparent suicide." He glanced over the police report to thepost-it note with a list of items to bring home. "Milk, bread, juice ohh . . . " It was getting late. He sighed as he remembered the extra driving he hadto do. The sound of far-off cries from this suicide's family brought him back. Hehated cases like these and never could understand why. It was such a last resortfor people. "Oh well, life goes on." The police man walked past a pinkand white mess in the middle of the dirty blood-stained road. " What in the . . . " was all he could say.