I. Continental Drift
It didn't start out as "How many times have I told you not to...". It didn't start with "I wish you would" or "I wish you wouldn't," or with "Why don't you ever" or "Do you really have to."
It was little things, unspoken things. A dirty coffee cup left on the bedside table with a still-smoking cigarette butt propped up in the moldy dregs. Milk left to sour on the countertop. The car left unlocked. It was the things that were left.
It was also the things that were not left. Things weren't left well enough alone, for instance. They also weren't left in peace. These were big things, as imperceptibly slow-moving as continents, until one day they collided and the world shook.II. Plate Tectonics
Until one day he took his unlocked car and threw away his sour milk and...
Until one day she took her cigarettes and coffee and...
This week's piece was inspired by this photo by Flickr user Joffa H. It's short and not-so-sweet...I planned to write more, but it seemed to come to a fitting end rather quickly. I guess you could call it flash fiction, eh? Check for more Flickr Fiction on the sites of The Gurrier, Isobel, Elimare, Chris, Mina, TadMack, Linus, and new members Neil, Valsha, and Dermot, who's still getting set up.