With all five children
safely tucked in bed,
he began working on his project.
Splashing his home
with the volatile liquid,
he muttered to himself,
“I’ll show her.”
His hands trembled
as his fevered, sick mind
reached into the small box
and ran the wooden stick on its side.
Only tomorrows headline remained.
This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55
hosted by Mr. Knowitall.
For more 55's pay him a visit -
If you think Micro Fictions are fun.
Come join us for a Sunday 160.
A challenge using exactly 160 characters
in a story, poem or writing of your choice.