Quicklinks:
|
Great Writing - Home > Short S. > And what if your Prince Charming was a monster?
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| GW IS... |
|---|
|
Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
and provide inspiration and motivation within aspiring and amateur
authors. Whatever your topic; from love poetry to Doctor Who or Harry
Potter fan fiction, Great Writing's online writing group is where you
can make new friends and improve your creative writing. |
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1979 guests online and 5 members online |
Shorts
| print friendly version | |
| And what if your Prince Charming was a monster? | |
| By smidge | ||||||||||||||
| 17 June 2007 | ||||||||||||||
|
And they asked you. What if your Prince Charming wasn’t so charming after all? Press fast forward past the first blissful months; the kiss on your hand, being swept up in his robes, shades of maroon, crimson, violet. Shades of passion, enveloping every intoxicated breath with incense, orchids, and, of course, true love. Mounting this steed was no awkward matter, riding bareback with ease, this feeling so natural, so right, that even possible bruises – and bumps – were welcomed as an outcome…Though none had appeared as of yet. (And I wonder if that were not the consequence of your doing, unready for a successor so soon, taking such matters into your own hands). But was this merely the honeymoon period. From kissing in the pastures while the sun cleansed your skin, to pulling his lustrous locks from the plughole, in the room where the sun’s rays daren’t penetrate, so unwelcoming it seems. Yes, even the glorious castle that provided such an exquisite contrast to the two bedroom bungalow you shared with your father and step-mother, even that transformed itself back into – oh God – a two bedroom bungalow that you share with a man that refused to share even the basics of what he deemed “women’s work”. And then, oh and then, your frameless rose tints lying shattered on the tile, the honeymoon period was well and truly over, wasn’t it? That roguish lothario with a chin that was never quite smooth, cast your eyes back to the realisation that perhaps it was not his catwalk cheekbones and penetrating gaze that caught you, but his aggression and arrogance that intimidated you down the aisle, pursued by his authoritative and assertive manner. Or perhaps it was the influence of your father, so pressing in his concern of carrying on the family line that he pressed you all the way to the honeymoon where the deed was done. Perhaps. But you have plenty of time to reflect on such psychological reasoning now I imagine, with what has become simply superficial rutting beneath hushed covers, as stimulating and liberating as washing the dishes, except even when it’s over with, there’s still cleaning to be done. And when they asked you, what if your Prince Charming wasn’t so charming after all, what could you say? “He’s the love of my life”. Did they know that elision, that lingering apostrophe, stood for “was”? So, my darling, is it possible, mid-thirties, no children, to live the rest of your life in the past tense? Tell me when you find out. x
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||||||||
 Previous item
|
Next item
|
|---|