She was convinced he was having an affair. The investigator found no evidence, but his photos were masterful. Together they engaged in more intimate forms of photography. Her husband found the photos, used them to secure a sizeable divorce settlement and lived happily ever after with a succession of trophy wives.
Written for: Twittering Tales
With Faithful Jenny deliberately scuttled there was no going back. The rip-tides in the bay were well renowned, and the lack of a body would be easily explainable.
He outstretched his arms and let go of everything – his materialistic trophy wife, the kids who hated him, the stock portfolio, the endless competing with other alphas – all expelled in a single glorious belch of freedom.
Hidden behind a rocky outcrop he encountered two other men – one standing in the mangled wreckage of a hang glider, the other kneeling by a bloated cadaver. He greeted them with nervous exhilaration and gave a false name as he’d been instructed. They reciprocated.
‘The likeness is uncanny,’ he commented, gesturing towards the cadaver.
”I paid extra. It’s a little macabre stealing from a morgue, but it’s not like anyone was murdered!’
A speedboat was moored at the tip of the archipelago. With a fair wind they’d be in Gibraltar by morning where a vagabond utopia awaited…
Written for: Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers