She accidentally passed the corkscrew near the old man's neck cutting one inch of his thin hair. She heard a tiny little gust of air passing through his nostrils.

"I thought you wanted to kill me."

It was by a hair's-breadth.

She reached for the bottle of Champagne, which they had bought on their way to Paris. By taking it with her left hand, she poured the sprinkling wine on his glass first, then on hers, and she put the bottle back on the table, slightly touching her fingernails on the gentleman's scalp.

"Ouch!"

"I beg your pardon," she smirked, "but you are now at my fingertips!" The million-loaded newlywed nodded, all nude in a honeymoon island.

Want to comment on this Flash Fiction? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Flash Fiction and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...