She’d told all her friends where to stand so that when she threw her wedding bouquet, Tracey could catch it and be the next to marry. She’d told them to get the men to stand in line as well.
As the bouquet flew through the air, the atmosphere in the barracks hall of R.A.F Stanmore was one of happiness, laughter and joy. Not for the bride, though, as flashes of the war-torn country she’d come from went through her mind.
Pressing a small button concealed under her wedding dress, the flowers scatted and mixed with blood, flames and bone.
Written in response to the 99-word flash fiction challenge over at the Carrot Ranch. This week’s theme is Bouquet. Click here to join the challenge.
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