“I will not marry him.”
Destiny did not prepare the gardener for the sight which greeted him in the morning sun. The noble daughter, sweetly sipping tea while admiring roses, and her gentleman courter writhing in dewy grass. Life did not prepare him to grab the unwitting belle and drag her to a horse.
“You have to go.”
“I will not.” Thin arms surrounded his neck.
Romeo ushered his Juliet onto the nearest mare with a promise he would not be far behind.
I wish I could say the story is only similar in name.
Alas, it ends the same.
PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
And thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for rounding Friday Fictioneers up.