She had missed her own wedding. Her mother had rushed into the dressing room with the news, startling her into painting a streak across her eyelid with the mascara. She still wore her bridal corset under sweatpants and a hoodie. The crowd parted and allowed her to approach her groom.
The zombie attack had left his arms and torso mangled. His eyes trembled open, and she was relieved to see that a dim spark remained.
“Susie,” he drawled, “we were going to be married…”
“Shut up, Dustin. I do.”
He grimaced, which she took for a smile. “I do, too.”
Author’s note: My first draft of this story involved a car accident. I rewrote it when I imagined how a different misfortune would complicate the couple’s wedding vows immensely.