He wanted to paint her. He wanted to paint her in her wedding dress, but his hand shook before the brush touched canvas. He wanted to paint her at the altar, a halo of light arching behind her face. He wanted to paint her at the reception, twirling around shoeless. He wanted to paint her naked form hiding under the blankets of their hotel room—but he could only see her lifeless eyes staring back at him from the passenger’s seat of their car, blue and red lights dancing on her face as he struggled to maintain consciousness.
About the Creator
Stephanie Hoogstad
With a BA in English and MSc in Creative Writing, writing is my life. I have edited and ghost written for years with some published stories and poems of my own.
Learn more about me: thewritersscrapbin.com
Support my writing: Patreon
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