I hadn't considered all the possible circumstances. I hadn't thought it might be over 100 degrees outside that day. Sweating profusely through layers of lotions, baby powder and taffeta I peeled locks of hair from my face. I stood as gracefully as one could with perspiration dripping down the backs of my knees. The minister paused as a zephyr floated overhead, snickers and laughter rising from overheated guests. I closed my eyes and reminisced of the long engagement; "time enough to plan a grand gala on the beach," I had boasted. But the day had come with a fury unknown to this part of the country. "A heat wave, out of season," the newscaster declared. I glanced across at my poor mother, trying to make the best of the situation. One of the ushers brought her a glass of water. Listening to the hum of the blimp overhead I watched condensation drip little round stains on my mother's silk dress.
(Here's the words: Graceful Engagement Zephyr Profusely Condensation)