by Michelle King
She found a dress that she liked, but the one in the shop was too small; it didn't do up properly, didn't hang right. "You try it," she told me, "you're a skinny bitch, it might fit you." So I modeled it for her, walking sedately up and down a make-believe aisle in the middle of the shop. "It looks better on you," the assistant whispered as she helped me to step out of it. I smiled and leaned in, matching her conspiratorial pose. "So does the groom," I said.
Michelle King has written for fun all her life but only just started trying to publish. Her flash fiction has recently appeared online at MicroHorror.