Now, every morning the toaster is off-limits. Its very sight conjures up images of him. I know he means well, but I’m scared. The rolling landscape of Angola is no kitchen, but his toaster now a landmine.
The subtle ticking of the rectangular shiny box was always his favorite part of the morning. The small glow of burning red from the carefully nested coils assured him of his mission. His instincts were stronger than the machines' built-in timer. For it was not only the carefully crusted bagel he yearned for but the tantalizing wait that preceded.
Now, every morning the toaster is off-limits. Its very sight conjures up images of him. I know he means well, but I’m scared. The rolling landscape of Angola is no kitchen, but his toaster now a landmine.
Dee Lorraine
18/12/2021 12:33:30 am
Swapping bagels for a landmine is not a good trade...Interesting story, Patrick.
Sue Clayton
18/12/2021 02:48:27 am
This ticked all the right boxes for a dramatic piece of flash fiction.
Mimi Grouse
18/12/2021 06:48:50 am
Chilling. That's a war too many have forgotten. Thank you, Patrick. x Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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