Five Sentence Fiction – Breakfast
Be forewarned, my dark twist is back today.
He slammed the refrigerator door closed, rifled through the pantry, then came into view, dipping his fingers into an open jar of peanut butter.
“I can fix you breakfast,” she said, the tremor in her voice unmistakable.
He licked his fingers and ran a sticky hand up her thigh, “Nah, haven’t you heard, PB is like the breakfast of champions; I’m good.
She trembled, feeling the rope cut into her hands as she turned her face from the stench of her own fear, sweat, and peanut butter.
As he brushed, an errant curl from her face with the gun and murmured to her, she closed eyes and prayed.