Or Worse

At his urging, we had a festive
wedding, even though the child
quickened in me long before
we ascended the stairs to the
rose-strewn chapel, stood before
the solemn oath-taker, and
turned to face the cheering crowd
with my pasted-on smile, draped
in liar’s white and his arm, bruising
with his gloating.

Inspired to use these prompts: Stairs, FestiveUrge and Wedding in a 55-word flash fiction in one sentence.  (Why? I never ask inspiration.  Do, Not Ask Why.)

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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