Pizza
Bill picked mushroom slices off the boxed pizza, grimacing, stacking them.
Sadie watched. “What’s wrong, Honeybun?”
“Mushrooms. They don’t belong on pizza. My ex-wife knew that. They’re like human ears.” Bill shuddered.
“Sorry!” Sadie sniffled, blue eyes pooling on her freckled face.
“Don’t be a baby.”
She was 20. Their infant son lay in the bedroom, drooling on Bill’s pillow, fitful with eczema. His ex Patsy, thinner now, lived in her own divorce trailer, screwing her burly handyman. Grown kids, not speaking to Bill. Everyone, broken. Bill sighed at the pile of ears. “Growing you up, it takes time, Sadie.”
From Guest Contributor Nicole Brogdon
Nicole is a trauma therapist in Austin TX, interested in strugglers and stories everywhere. Her flash fiction appears in Flash Frontier, Bending Genres, 101Words, Bright Flash, Dribble Drabble Review, Centifictionist, and elsewhere.
Please support the site by purchasing one of my books on Amazon. Check out Quitting The Grave, a murder mystery set on the Oregon Trail. Plus, don't forget my other books: They Both Loved Vonnegut, Ahab's Adventures in Wonderland, and Picasso Painted Dinosaurs.