Flash Fiction – A ham sandwich.

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‘Here come the waterworks,’ David sneers.

My chest burns as I fight to keep tears inside.

‘Honestly, Jeanie, a child could cut better than you.’

He holds up a slice of bread, wedged and full of holes.

‘A pig wouldn’t eat this.’

‘You are,’ I whisper.

‘I.  Am.  What?’

‘A pig.’

Courage stutters through my veins. I swipe the bread knife and jab it towards him.

‘Think very carefully about what you’re doing, Jeanie.’

And I do.

For about three seconds.

And as I scrub blood from the kitchen floor I wonder what to have for tea. A ham sandwich perhaps?

 

Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. Read the other entries here

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56 thoughts on “Flash Fiction – A ham sandwich.

  1. Sometimes a girls gotta’ do what a girls gotta’ do. I wonder how many people are pushed to this kind of breaking point after years of physical or mental abuse or a bad combination of both.

  2. Bread knife, serrated edge. A particularly nasty choice for exacting revenge. But I’m not sure I’d want a taste of that ham (or dead pig).

  3. Three seconds can be a long time, enough for him to be sufficiently surprised, shocked… and dead. But what to do with the body? Ham sandwich, hm?

Constructive criticism appreciated

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