Francine knew everything about expensive wine. Paul had taught her, patiently, lovingly. She would never forget the first time he took her to meet his family. His sister insisted on taking her shopping for a new dress to wear to their engagement party. Francine felt so loved, so accepted, so incredibly secure in the knowledge that her beloved came from a fine family. What a good life they had until painting began to consume all of Paul’s time.

What was he thinking? She had never been a blond. Francine mused as she decanted every last bottle into the punch bowl.


Love is in the air for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Janet Webb for the inspiration.

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27 thoughts on “Bittersweet

  1. This guy’s last name wasn’t Gaugin by any chance, was it? (hee-hee-hee!) I know things would have gotten REALLY wild then.
    Fine narrative and sealed with a good jolt of life’s orange bitters.

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