This week's prompt is straightforward, just something that came to me this week, and I liked the sound of it.
Prompt: She wore pale, unpainted lips and pearls ...
Enjoy!
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My response:
She wore pale, unpainted lips and pearls. For a moment her fingers trembled, so she clasped them together in her lap, her ankles crossed primly beneath her. Her white suit was neatly tailored to her slight frame, and the veil on her hat crossed her face just so. She was a picture of good breeding and perfection, and I wondered at her. Young ladies like her didn't make a habit of getting married in town hall.
He only added to the puzzle. I would have guessed the situation if he'd been a slouch, but he was far from shabby. The shine in his shoes rivaled the crispness of the pleats in his three piece suit. His teeth were white as snow, his skin right out of a fairy tale.
It didn't make sense. People like them had lavish church weddings, with bridesmaids and flowers and fondant cake. Then they handed me their IDs. It took a moment for my brain to wrap itself around the situation, and to realize the danger I was in. If I married this couple, there wouldn't be anywhere in Verona I could hide. If Mr. Capulet didn't get me, Mr. Montague never missed.
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