I really wanted to continue the series I’m working on today. I even started the next part, but it just wasn’t flowing. The story is there, but not ready. So I decided to opt for some 100-word flash fiction, instead.
This prompt, courtesy of The Prediction, was tough:
100 words maximum, excluding the title, of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above (‘bliss’, ‘south’, and ‘Tudor’) in the genres of horror, fantasy or science fiction.
And yes, I know King Henry VIII didn’t ‘kill all his wives.’ Jimmy and Glen don’t have the advantage of my ed-u-ma-cation.
“Not tutor, you moron. Tudor.”
Glen huffed. “Fine. Too-door. Whatever. What’s your point?”
“He was a king. Killed all his wives,” Jimmy said.
“King ‘o what?”
“This is South Carolina.”
“So, this ain’t England. You ain’t a king. You can’t kill every woman you wish you hadn’t married.”
Jimmy nodded concession.
“You ain’t gonna find marital bliss like this, Jimbo,” Glen continued.
“Next time try counseling.”
“Or Oprah. She’s always giving out advice.”
“Yeah, okay. But…”
Jimmy motioned toward the ground.
“Yeah, I can help you bury this one first.”