The Reluctant Bride
She is getting married today, my childhood sweetheart. I catch her eye and in that instance her sensual lips curl in a half-smile. I would like to think that it contains a message – even an apology – as I am not the groom. Her chocolate brown eyes hold a challenge as the church minister asks whether there are any objections to this proposed union. For a fleeting moment I am tempted to unmask the churly fellow for the unsuitable match he is, but content myself with taking the photograph surreptitiously with my iPhone. It is fitting that the picture isn’t perfect.
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For comparison:
She is getting married today, my childhood sweetheart. As I catch her eye, her sensual lips curl into a half-smile, a fleeting, bittersweet gesture that hints at unspoken words. Her chocolate brown eyes, both tender and challenging, seem to pierce through the veil of tradition as the church minister asks if there are any objections to this union.
For a heartbeat, my world stands still. The weight of years and memories presses down on me, and I am tempted to unmask the surly fellow by her side, revealing him for the unsuitable match he is. But instead, I silently surrender, raising my iPhone to capture this imperfect moment. The picture, much like my feelings, is fittingly flawed.
Revised by Microsoft Copilot: (117 words) 6/2/2025
This is Flash Fiction rather than a vignette. ~Su
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