Always a Bridesmaid (Short story written in 9 minutes)

Four Times a Matchmaker

Abigail was a peppy, gregarious person with friends galore. She had moved around many times throughout her college career and since, following jobs or chasing love. This nomadic spirit and tendency to make friends meant she knew people in many locations. She also had a penchant for knowing which chemical composite of friends would get along, and which mixtures were toxic.

Abby dressed in one of her old bridesmaid dresses (she had many), altered so she could actually wear it again. She dolled herself up, took a couple of selfies, like you do, and headed to attend yet another wedding. This was a marriage between two of her many friends, whom she had suggested would get along greatly. They took her up on that suggestion and went on a date a year and a half ago.

As she watched the slideshow of the couple's time together, she smiled. This was her fourth successful match. She had attended two other weddings, knowing she was the catalyst for it all. The fourth and final couple she had hooked up were still dating, but she was sure good things were on the horizon. She enjoyed being a part of love, even if she had never actually experienced it herself.

A tear slowly crawled down her made-up face, and she dabbed at it with a Kleenex, pretending it was joy that had propagated it.