Disclaimer: this is fiction. This is not how I, David Stewart, met my wife.
That said, this is my 3rd anniversary of doing Friday Fictioneers stories every week, which means I have written 156 100-word stories thus far.
I was having trouble thinking of a good story for this one so I asked the students in my writing class. They told me to write “a funny, horror love story”. Thanks guys, eh?
I got my revenge though, by assigning them each to write a story for Friday Fictioneers. They have their own WordPress blogs as part of our curriculum, so they’re going to post them there. If you want to read them, the links are:
The last two hadn’t posted their stories at the time I posted this. Keep in mind that they are still learning English and before these stories, they had each written one fiction piece in English.
Now, on to the story.
copyright Roger Bultot
Did I Ever Tell You How I Met My Wife?
I unearthed her while digging the foundation of a new office building. She lay there, dead but conscious, watching me.
It took me twenty minutes just to ask her name. I was so shy.
It was rough at first; all relationships are. I’m a vegetarian; she drinks the blood of the living. Well opposites attract, they say.
That was 6 years ago. We’ve both adjusted.
My phone buzzes. Honey, bring a ssssacrifice home for dinner. I hunger I thirst lol
“Hey Bill,” I say to my co-worker. “Wanna come home for supper? My wife will whip you up, something special.”