The early blooming flowers decorated the air in a thin sweet mist.

Shaking hands were nervously clutched, and grasping the flowery white dress.

The drink was simply “For my nerves”

It was the perfect day, the perfect walk, and the perfect man.

I saw one of the flowers fall, falling to the stones, all shriveled up and dead.

Another flower had taken its place.

My stomach churned, as I grasped it, falling to the ground.

Through the blood spitting out of my mouth and my eyes glazing over,

I saw that look.

Between my man and her.

She may have been hunting for my husband, but I’ll be hunting for her.