Happily...

People have complained that there's been too much morbidity in my stories recently, and that it shows that there's something wrong with my head. Well, in my defense I've been reading Neil Gaiman's Smoke and Mirrors, and the stories in it are hardly cheerful, if you know what I mean.

Anyway. Here's the next installment of the 55-word story.

Ever After?

They met. They fell in love. They courted.

Soon he got a job, and they got married. They fought a little, but mostly it was a good marriage. They had two children - a boy and a girl.

They lived happily together till he died at the age of seventy-nine. She died a year later.

The End

Now don't tell me that dying of old age is also too morbid.