Tongues wagged as the newlyweds left the church.
"That old fool. He must have thirty years on her."
"Forty. She's nineteen. Grew up in the County Home after her people died in a fire."
"Such a beauty. Look at that hair, and those eyes."
"Stacked to the rafters, and them legs go right on up to her neck."
"I'll bet that old coot can't wait to get started on the honeymoon."
They were right. The groom couldn't wait to get started. His bride was young, exquisite, and totally alone. The local taxidermist had finally found the perfect trophy wife.
YOU ARE READING
In a Flash
Short StoryA collection of flash fiction. A bit of everything, all told in less than one thousand words.
