Birds of A Feather

"The bride's veil and dress have arrived," a woman rushed inside of Mila's room with heavy boxes that she almost tripped over.

"I was asked to send this back to her house," she pointed at a particular box that was sealed. "A gift, I guess?"

The people that had gathered in the room ignored her. All attention was on:

The Bride.

"A little powder on her face, and maybe a nude lip gloss should do," one of the makeup artists suggested. "I don't think her skin needs too much, she's glowing already."

Another makeup artist entered. "Also because she's been throwing up since we put powder on her face."

The voices, the hands touching, the noise, Mila felt overstimulated. She already felt like tiny ants were crawling up her skin and neck. The people kept asking her this or that…and she didn't even know what to do or say.

"Time for the bride to fit into her dress," one of the women announced.