Marriage is the doctor leaving the room as you undress to get into a top-only johhnycoat and your husband, who has teased you always for your shortness, hops up from his seat as soon as the door’s closed to go look at what the scale registered as your height.
Flash Fiction Fridays
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"I will breakfast from the cupboard where uneaten dreams are kept"
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"I foresee the successful future of a very mediocre society."
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