welcome to waiting for a train, a post-movie "Inception"-based board set in Washington, DC, in the year 2011. shared dreaming has become more commonplace, and thus, a lot more dangerous--but just because it's now illegal, doesn't mean it's not happening. from illegal extraction to dream junkies looking for their next fix, the landscape of shared dreaming is changing. so join us--after all, you mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger.
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Inception by Chris Nolan, to whom we remain forever indebted.
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Group: law enforcement
Member No.: 346
Joined: 15-September 11
Date: December 15th, 2011
Location: Wedding Reception
Synopsis: Something about weddings and sitting alone.
Of course they'd put her somewhere near the back.
It was easy to tell where one stood with friends when wedding season came around. It started with the little things—the dress fittings, the bachelorette party. Then it came to this: to where one was seated at the reception. The closer to the stage, the closer the bond of family and friendship. The further away, the less important one was.
Zainab was put somewhere near the back, in a table all to herself. At first it bothered her to be here, but when she began to line up the reasons, she figured it was only right. She hardly knew the bride. Aside from a class in college and a few lunch dates after that, they weren't exactly close. It made sense to sit here. She was extra, the type of guest invited to fill up space.
Still, it was the principle of the matter. From where she sat, she could hardly see the Bride, much less interface with her.
Sighing, Zainab propped her elbows on the table and cupped her face, her slender fingers tapping out a pattern over her cheeks. She'd come dressed to the nines, her suit a gorgeous blue with traditional Pakistani bead and crystal work around the cuffs and neck. Her scarf was decorated to match, with a rather stunning diamond pin securing the elaborate headdress. It was the most she'd dressed up in a long time and it seemed so pointless now. No one knew her and aside from a smile or two, she'd hardly spoken to anyone. She should have saved this dress for a different wedding, maybe her cousin's next month.
With another sigh, she fixed her scarf and looked at the distant stage, wondering what kind of wedding she would have. Her mother wanted a large, massive affair. A thousand people in the city's best banquet halls. Large centrepieces with flowers. Lots of Henna...
Zainab herself wasn't so sure—not to mention she hadn't even found a husband yet. At times like these, when all her friends were getting married, she sometimes wondered if she was doomed to be single.
Just like she was doomed to sit alone on this table.
Unless someone else equally as disposable showed up.
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