Murdered Mystery

For three days we sat next to each other for three meals.

For all of those meals,
and only for those meals,
to everyone else,
she was my "wife."

At first glance, she was: Hot.

"Yeah,"
I thought,
"I could be married to that."

However,
the more I got to know her,
the uglier she became.

Only,
she's not the one I need to find ugly...

The one I need to find ugly treats me,
at the very least,
with too much professional courtesy.

Even so,
the one whose attitude sullied her beauty
(because she had too much contempt
for anyone more fortunate),
I said to her,
"Nice working with you."
It was a formality, what I said.
It was also
a lie.

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