Vows

Today’s prompt: “Write wedding vows. The bride is thirty-five years old; it’s her first marriage. The groom is forty-eight, and it’s his third go-round at the altar.”

“And do you, Ayi’ig” – oh my god the priest just slaughtered Alana’s name – “take this fresh victim, to hold in your tentacles from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, until your hunger is sated?”

“Wait, what?” you stammer, as tentacles reach forth from below the veil.