Romeo and Juliet: The Politically Correct Version (I had to, really)
Crazy times at my house. Better late than never.
Like Marcella, I’m not a big fan of Romeo and Juliet. A 13 and 14 year old… What’s up with that? So here’ my pseudo progressive ending. Hate it if you must, but I just had to do it.
Juliet blinked her eyes. The poison had not worked and very much alive Romeo face shimmered into focus. She should be thrilled. Why didn’t his eyes look as brown as they once did, nor as tender. He smelled of sweat and mint and sulfur soap, that made her want to gag. Was that a pimple on his temple or a wart?
“Thank the lord, you are alive, my love,” Romeo squeaked, the sound harsh against her ears. His mouth fell open, the tip of a pink tongue emerged. The look reminded her of a puppy dog. She looked around him half expecting a wagging tail. He was so young.
“My daughter, thank goodness we find you.” Her father came running up to them. Sweat plastered his salt and pepper hair to his forehead. “We have made peace with the Montagues. The war is over. Come home and I promise you can attend school with your brothers.”
“You will let me learn to read, father?”
“Aye, daughter, I will. You were too willing to give up your life, too early. It woke me up.”
“Then, Romeo, we should wait. Learn. Grow. If we still love each other after a few years, we can marry properly.”