FF: Left. Over.


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In her haste to leave a note on her way to work, Laura broke her husband’s heart.

She meant to tell him this: The food at Charlie’s last night was terrible, but there’s left overs in the fridge.

Between the mostly torn notepad paper and her rushed handwriting, all he saw was “Last night was terrible. Left. Over.”

He called her. She answered.

“I hate Charlie’s too!”

That night, they stayed in. He made her dinner, and they made up. This time, their night ended quite well.

This is my entry for Friday Fictioneers, a weekly flash fiction contest led by by the ever-inspiring Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

10 thoughts on “FF: Left. Over.

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