He’d spared no expense: from the limousine ride, to the first-class direct flight, to the upper balcony suite on the Caribbean’s finest cruise line. Romantic gestures, to be sure, but it was one of those things she disapproved of—his want of frugality. He’d squander his inheritance in a few short years if he had his way about it. In her hands, however, those paltry millions of his could be doubled–no tripled–in as much time.
She smiled and squeezed his hand before getting up.
“Will four days be enough for a honeymoon?” he asked as she walked to edge of their balcony.
She rested her elbows on the railing and looked down. It had to be ten stories at least. From this distance, the ocean waves were barely more than orange peel. From this distance, a stumble—a scream—a splash, might never be heard.
“Four days will be plenty.”
This has been an edition of What Pegman Saw, a location-based prompt inspired by Google Maps. To read more stories inspired by the prompt or to submit your own, click below:
It’s been awhile since I’ve indulged in any literary spouse-killing, something which has probably been a relief to my reader(s). I was helpless to resist this one though, because for some reason, murder is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of a cruise ship. You’ve been warned 😉