I pulled myself out of the bed with great difficulty. My head hurt like hell. What was I thinking — drinking all that wine last night! Thankfully, there are still a couple of hours left for the wedding.
Mike and I have known each other forever. If it weren’t for him, I would never pull my act together. He stood by me during the thickest of times. I remember, in detail, the evening he proposed to me.
-—-
“Let’s get married, Peggy!”
I choked on the whiskey I was sipping.
“You must be out of your mind. You’ll end up with an alcoholic.”
“I don’t mind. That’s settled then. Finish your drink,” he giggled.
And that’s all it took. I put up a mock protest and quickly gave in. In my heart, I was grateful that he was calling the shots. He knew me better than I ever could.
-—-
I left Mike a text — Up and about. Gotta rush. Pick me up at 12.
In the shower, I kept thinking ahead. In just a couple of hours, I’d be Mrs. Mike Anderson! We decided that a civil union was the way to go — Just me, Mike, and a bunch of friends.
I stepped out of the shower and helped myself to a glass of wine, hoping the hangover subsides.
BEEP BEEP!
My laptop screen came alive — ‘MESSAGE FROM UNKNOWN.’
Curious, I opened the message. As I read, my head started spinning, and I crashed into the chair.
“I hope you’re enjoying the wine I handpicked for you. It’s laced with poison. You have two choices — attend the wedding and live out the next 24 hours or get the hell out of here, drive to the address you find in the black envelope outside your door, and get yourself the antidote. Don’t call for help. Consider the antidote gone if you play any tricks.”
-—-
I drove as fast as I could. The address was a remote suburb, about 6 hours away. Mike must have called at least a hundred times until the battery died out.
I reached an abandoned cottage in a sparsely populated neighborhood. I mustered some courage, walked to the main door, and knocked.
There was no answer.
I twisted the knob, and the door gave in. It was pitch dark inside. The floorboards creaked as I walked. There was no sign of anyone except for a flickering candle on the fireplace mantel.
I approached the mantle. By the candlelight, I saw another black envelope, a red rose, and a glass vial. Promptly, I guzzled down the contents of the vial.
Relieved, I opened the envelope determined to find the crook responsible for this. The envelope read:
“The Antidote is the Poison”
Mike and I have known each other forever. If it weren’t for him, I would never pull my act together. He stood by me during the thickest of times. I remember, in detail, the evening he proposed to me.
-—-
“Let’s get married, Peggy!”
I choked on the whiskey I was sipping.
“You must be out of your mind. You’ll end up with an alcoholic.”
“I don’t mind. That’s settled then. Finish your drink,” he giggled.
And that’s all it took. I put up a mock protest and quickly gave in. In my heart, I was grateful that he was calling the shots. He knew me better than I ever could.
-—-
I left Mike a text — Up and about. Gotta rush. Pick me up at 12.
In the shower, I kept thinking ahead. In just a couple of hours, I’d be Mrs. Mike Anderson! We decided that a civil union was the way to go — Just me, Mike, and a bunch of friends.
I stepped out of the shower and helped myself to a glass of wine, hoping the hangover subsides.
BEEP BEEP!
My laptop screen came alive — ‘MESSAGE FROM UNKNOWN.’
Curious, I opened the message. As I read, my head started spinning, and I crashed into the chair.
“I hope you’re enjoying the wine I handpicked for you. It’s laced with poison. You have two choices — attend the wedding and live out the next 24 hours or get the hell out of here, drive to the address you find in the black envelope outside your door, and get yourself the antidote. Don’t call for help. Consider the antidote gone if you play any tricks.”
-—-
I drove as fast as I could. The address was a remote suburb, about 6 hours away. Mike must have called at least a hundred times until the battery died out.
I reached an abandoned cottage in a sparsely populated neighborhood. I mustered some courage, walked to the main door, and knocked.
There was no answer.
I twisted the knob, and the door gave in. It was pitch dark inside. The floorboards creaked as I walked. There was no sign of anyone except for a flickering candle on the fireplace mantel.
I approached the mantle. By the candlelight, I saw another black envelope, a red rose, and a glass vial. Promptly, I guzzled down the contents of the vial.
Relieved, I opened the envelope determined to find the crook responsible for this. The envelope read:
“The Antidote is the Poison”
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