The click of his keys in the front door.  What’s for dinner?

“What’s for dinner?”

“Pasta,” she says, slicing vegetables.



She looks out of the window at the car they painted together during the heady early days of their marriage.  Their road trip car.

“Let’s drive to San Francisco!”

He laughs.

“I’m serious.”

“Now isn’t a good time.”

“Why not?  We have savings.  We’re still young.  No…kids…tying us down….”

“We have work tomorrow…responsibilities….”

She begins to fade, thinking about the ugly house she hates that will probably be her coffin, the same restaurant they visit every week for date night, all of the trips not taken and the babies that never came and the stink of garbage and dirty dishes and musty, closed-in guest rooms and there’s an explosion.  Screams and flashes of red. She emerges from the fog to see him at her feet, bleeding and unmoving.  She drops the knife, shivering with fear and disgust and grief, yet grateful that finally, something was different.


For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers


30 thoughts on “Fog

  1. When dreams become reality they go boom! This is a great story. I think its every discontented wife’s flash fiction. I really enjoyed reading it!

  2. Great surprise ending! She released all of her pent up anger in a moment of disappointment. She probably had many disappointments in her life and he gave her one that represented the “straw that broke the camel’s back!”

  3. And that’s why it’s dangerous to bottle your feelings… Brilliant story. I got the sense she’s a bit of a ticking time bomb from the start, and here you can almost hear the ticks: “No…kids…tying us down….”

  4. I think that’s a change that she’s going to be regretting very soon! I now have visions of her driving away in her road trip car in a ‘Thelma and Louise’ type flight from the law. Great story Jenn.

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