Monologue from Granny Weatherall's point of view: Granny Weatherall

Essay by sar55234High School, 11th gradeA+, May 2004

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Ellen: Whoooo. Breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. This is it, the day I've been waiting for since I met George in third grade, and I still don't believe its happening. My dress is beautiful; my hair is pinned in that new fashion fresh from Paris, a Spanish comb placed ever so carefully behind my left ear. My slippers were shipped from Astoria, made by the best cobblers that town has to offer. I should be ready. I am ready. Aren't I? No, I'm not. And that's what's got me all mixed up. I love George. I know I do. But I keep wondering if he loves me back? Rumors from the Pritchett girls, who live on the next plot down from his, tell me he has other girls at his house. But who would believe those busybodies anyway? They're just jealous because they haven't found someone as wonderful and as caring as George.

Wait, the bells? One...Two...Three.... Gosh! Where is he? Our mutual best friend, John Winters, who will be George's best man today, just came in and told me George isn't here yet. Well where the heck is he then John? Well I guess we'll just have to wait and see if he comes. I swear if he doesn't show up I will marry John just to spite him! We had everything planned! Our house is built, furnished; even a cradle was placed in the nursery! We had the names of our children picked out--Hapsy, John, George, Cornelia, Kathleen and Grace. That was assuming we had six children of course! Where is he? That's the bell that sounds at the half hour. That's probably my greatest fear- that I will be left at the altar. But my George knows that, and he would never, ever...