My contribution to the “Little Black Dress” prompt #732 challenge for today.

It was a shame it had come to wearing it on a day like today. The suns dappled light filtered through the trees and the birds called to their mate a song of joy.

Wearing that little black dress to the club that night six months ago had started the flame of passion between them. He couldn’t resist it and she knew it. She had watched him eyeing everything in a black skirt for weeks.

One of the city’s most eligible bachelors, he was in high demand. His high-rise hotel business model had just jumped onto the cover of Fast Company and his handsome face was headed for the cover of Forbes like a shooting star. Everyone, men and women alike, wanted to be in his small group of “good friends”. Everything he touched turned to gold.

On a whim they had eloped, settled into a rich lifestyle and were happy together; that is, until she came along.

A fan of his work, needing a spotlight of her own, followed him from place to place touting their friendship and closeness. He responded. The whispers among the “in crowd” began and they made it to his wife’s ears. He then hired her on as an associate in his business, causing even more of an uproar.

The trouble at home then started. He denied the accusations against him. The sweet love words between them ended and the romantic flame seemed to flicker out. She sat back and watched as the life of fortune was being wasted upon that tramp.

They had always known where the other was and what they were doing. Now it was a guessing game. She guessed correctly. She had an Ace she was holding, waiting. A sweet love note passed between them had been intercepted by a mutual friend, who then forwarded it to the wife.

She had tried to warn him the girl was trouble. She tried to save their happiness. She even tried reasoning with him. He refused to respond to her pleas.

What happened on the highway overpass that night might never be known. Suicide, the police had called it. But whatever the case might have been, the girl would be no more trouble.

As the grieving widow bent down to toss dirt on the casket of the man whom she had loved, the little black dress rode high on her thighs. Her eyes smiled over her sunglasses at her handsome new Vice President of the high-rise hotel she now owned.

© 2009, Holley. All rights reserved.

Tags: creative writing, Flash Fiction, little black dress

Related posts

• The Dinner Date (8)
• Three Little Words (6)
• Sara Loves Lester (2)
• Red Shoes Dance (6)
• Would You Jump If Your Friends Told You To? (4)