Wildean Fragment 3


Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?

What Lord Shillingsly didn't realize was the magnitude of the gift he was to give to her in exchange for her silence. Arnold was a sure thing; no doubt of that. But when Lady Enid showed her the photorealistic scans of his date with the flower girl as an attachment to that wretched email, he had been easily persuaded.

What in blazes was he to do otherwise? All the wedding plans had been laid out in strips and the event was coming like a snail shot out of a buskin. A revelation of that kind during the season would be devastating for his father, his fiancee, and the flower girl, and the flowers themselves. . .well! It was hardly thinkable.

He retraced his thoughts to the morning before when he'd been greeted by an affable Arnold, who'd challenged him to a footrace to the entrance of the Memorial. Arnold raced to the door, and --

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Inspired by (sequel to):

"Yes, sir," he said, and closed the door with a slight bang. Odd, thought Howard as he lit a new an…

Wildean Fragments 1, 2

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