So this one popped out one morning when I couldn’t sleep. The prompt was “bread”, but the moderator for the contest never came back to give us the results, so I don’t know who won. Thought I’d post it here. Don’t know if it’s really even long enough for flash fiction; it’s more of an image, an emotion. Meh, let me know what you think
We had been gone long enough that things smelled strange upon our arrival. You never smell your own home, until everything changes.
Kim walked through the great room to our master suite, eyes open, seeing things I would never see. The world felt empty. Our house was a drum, already beaten, silent as a vacuum.
The kitchen table had a single plate, untouched during our absence. He chewed his sandwiches away from the crusts when we didn’t cut them off for him. I guess most six-year-olds do the same thing. The crusts sat stale on the plate now, the little half-moons of his baby teeth still visible in the bread. Peanut butter and grape jelly hardened with the passage of time. I couldn’t bring myself to clean it up, not yet. His last meal would sit on the table another day, a monument of peanut butter and hardened bread to mark the passing of our only child.