Futility

She saw him struggle with the words. Knowing him as well as she did, she could imagine the discarded papers sacrificed in the quest for penning perfect lines. He was nothing if not meticulous.

It was all futile.

None of the words would be right.

He fumbled with the small box, opening it to reveal a sparkling stone. 'Will you marry me?'

She sighed.

Yup, none of the words were right. Or maybe the words were right but the man wasn't. She shrugged.

'No.'