Little Miss Eloping

Little Miss Eloping was always in a hurry. A hurry to pack, a hurry to book flights, and most of all — a hurry to say “I do!”

She didn’t want a big fuss, no fancy invitations, and certainly no seating charts. “Too many names, too many chairs, and too many opinions!” she huffed. “Let’s just elope in New York.”

One morning, she woke up and decided, Today’s the day! She grabbed her suitcase, her best dress, and her soon-to-be husband, Mr. Whiskers. (No, not a cat — though he did have a rather fine mustache.)

Off they went, sprinting past Little Miss Perfect who was carefully arranging a ten-tier wedding cake.

“You can’t just run off and get married in New York!” she gasped.

“Oh, but I can!” laughed Little Miss Eloping as she hopped in a yellow cab.

They zoomed past Mr. Worry, who was pacing outside a wedding venue, fretting over seating charts.

“But what about the guests? The venue? The flowers?!” he panicked.

“No guests, no venue, no problem!” she called back through the taxi window.

Finally, they arrived at a quiet, tucked-away alleyway in the East Village, where their officiant was already waiting — bouquet in one hand, marriage license in the other.

Mr. Whiskers took her hand. “Ready?” he asked.

Little Miss Eloping grinned. “I was born ready.”

And just like that, they were married — quick, simple, and exactly how she liked it.

Later that day, they sent postcards to everyone:

“Surprise! We got married! See you at the party… maybe.”

And off they went on their honeymoon — first stop, a New York slice and a champagne toast.

THE END.