When she came home late in the evening, her head was still buzzing with joy and excitement. It had been almost disgustingly nice, and she was no cynic. The flowers, the palace, the festive atmosphere, the wonderful people, and, of course, the glittering newlyweds. It could not get any better than that. Her own wedding ceremony? Well, a local church in her small home town would be quite all right. All those friends she would invite, her crying mother: she could see it all now, sitting on her sleepy sofa and waiting for a phone call. Yes, her wedding: the flowers, the dress, the rings… But she imagined it was perhaps a little bit too presumptuous to think about herself – and on a day like that. Still, the big wedding did make her think about her own future, and those thoughts were most pleasant, most exciting. James? Oh yes, James. He was supposed to call her. She was afraid to close her eyes lest she should blind herself to unconsciousness.
But the sofa got the best of her, and she fell asleep.
She woke up next morning, her head still full of that innocent joy of the previous day. It was slightly faded, of course, but she could still hear that music as well as those lively, good-spirited conversations that were so often hushed by the rumours of the royal car, the royal kiss… And yet: two things. Amid those great recollections there were two things that somehow began to tease, annoy her mind: her dress and his hair. Her dress was fine, of course, brilliant, impeccable, but it was perhaps 30 or 40 centimeters too long. Yes, that’s right: slightly overlong. No, no, the design was fantastic, the royal tailor knew his job, but all the same: the dress should have been a little shorter. Why couldn’t they see such an obvious thing? And she herself, when the wedding celebration was in full swing, didn’t notice such a conspicuous oversight. But now – oh, she could see it all. And his hair, of course. Yesterday, intoxicated with love and admiration, she completely overlooked the fact that he was in fact going bald. That blank patch was quite bad. And he was still so young... Couldn’t they bloody sort it out?.. Those two things. Those two stupid blemishes on such a fine day.
James, he didn’t call her yesterday. She got up from the sofa, undressed herself, and stood stark naked in the middle of the room. She thought it would be effective to draw the curtains back and let some random passer-by see the fine outline of her body. But she of course lived on the tenth floor, so there was no chance of that. Besides, the curtains were already well apart. They gave way to a sunny, clear day.
She thought it was good James didn’t call her. And if he did and she just couldn't hear because she was sound asleep at the time - then she... oh she certainly could live with that.
Well, and this here is a nice musical addition to the sketch. “New Diana” the song. Masterful, sinister pop confection from Luke Haines’ second and, I understand, last band, Black Box Recorder (Passionoia, 2003). Timeless.