And They Lived… (158 words)
It was supposed to be for our celebratory toast, our clinking to a lifetime of love and happiness.
Instead, I’m nursing this pricey champagne and a broken heart. Such a cliche.
I drop the glass.
I’m a cliche. Thirty years old. Abandoned at the altar. No prospects on the horizon. No hope to go back to.
So I sit here, gazing out at the beautiful landscape. it’s what Hallmark would want me to do. Right?
Where’s my cowboy? Where’s my billionaire businessman? Where’s my noble knight on his royal steed?
You’re telling me I have to be the hero of my own story? Nobody is responsible for my happiness but me? Women need men like fish need bicycles?
If I have to live a cliche, I’d rather have the fairytale.
But life isn’t fiction. There are no convenient plot twists, no guarantee of a happily ever after.
There’s just me, and this glass. Both shattered.
__________________________________________________________________________
Thus sprach Zarathustra. Oops, wait. I mean, thus begins YEAR 3 of Flash Friday Fiction, people! Isn’t it awesome? Isn’t it amazing what people can do with only 150 (+/-10) words? Pop on over and show us some love, or submit your own teensy tinesy story!