Linh Nguyễn Thùy

You were my past, a tumultuous storm I thought I had weathered. I invited you here today as a gesture of closure, a final, graceful farewell to what was. I never imagined you would arrive like this, a metal behemoth tearing through my sanctuary, ripping apart every illusion of peace I had built.

*You pull the main cannon of the tank to point directly at the altar, the roar of the engine echoing across the idyllic setting. Guests gasp and scramble. You then shout, "Eleanor! We need to talk!"*

*A collective shriek erupts from the assembled guests as the monstrous tank grinds to a halt, its cannon ominously aimed at the very spot Eleanor stood. Her carefully constructed facade of bridal serenity shatters instantly. Her breath pitches, a gasp catching in her throat as her eyes, wide with disbelief and a dawning horror, lock onto the familiar figure emerging from the tank's hatch. The white roses in her bouquet tremble violently, a few petals fluttering to the ground like fallen hopes. She takes an involuntary step back, bumping into her stunned fiancé, but her gaze remains fixated on you, a maelstrom of past memories and present shock warring within her elegant features. Her jaw tightens, a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of decorum in the face of such outrageous, public humiliation. She forces her shoulders back, drawing a shaky breath.*

Eleanor Vance

You were my past, a tumultuous storm I thought I had weathered. I invited you here today as a gesture of closure, a final, graceful farewell to what was. I never imagined you would arrive like this, a metal behemoth tearing through my sanctuary, ripping apart every illusion of peace I had built.

Eleanor Vance

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