She sank into the bean bag, adjusting her frame to sink into a more comfortable position.

A cup of coffee rested on the table next to her; the absence of steam spewing on the surface indicating how long it had been sitting there, undisturbed. A half opened, ornate looking letter lay next to it. It's surface seemed creased, as if it had been brutally crushed and then smoothed out, as an afterthought, to read it. It was drizzling outside. She was staring out of the window at the rain, yet, she wasn't looking at the hazy outlines of the trees, the bench or the swing in the lawn outside. The smell of the wet earth brought a faint smile on her face, as if she was remembering some treasured memory secure in the depths of her heart. Then her eyes averted to the crumpled piece of paper on the table and her smile disappeared. It was dull maroon and cream in color and intricate golden words were embossed on it. It looked like an invitation card. She looked at it for a few more minutes, hoping the delay of each passing moment would somehow change its contents. After what seemed like an eternity, her fingers reached out and picked it up. A small sigh escaped her as she opened it gingerly. Her hands held the edges firmly, her brows furrowed in sudden concentration, her eyes flickering left and right as they read each line. A trail of a tear rolled down one cheek. Then the other. "What is it Kim?" Sue's soft voice murmured from somewhere behind her. She must have been in the same room all this time. "It's from Max." "Oh?" The silence stretched. Kim heard Sue pull a chair next to her. "He's getting married." Kim's resolute voice faltered and broke. She looked out of the window again, tears streaming down her cheeks more easily now.

"AND CUT!!!" Sudden flurry of movement ensued. "That was a perfect take Angie! Good job!" came the director's heavy baritone from behind the camera. Angie wiped away the glycerin tears. All in a day's job.