Breakfast of Champions

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.

A Perfect Match

She read the names aloud as if one would speak to her; it’s me.

“Ruby Red, Fire Engine Red, Startling Red, Kiss Me Red.”

Maybe she was wrong.

“Cheating Red.”

She raised the stick higher and ran it across the crumpled, red-stained shirt in her hand. It was a perfect match.





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Miranda wiped the sweat from his small bony brow, cringing with each labored rattle as if she were the one struggling to breathe.

She prayed to God to give him strength as his birdlike chest played sonorous vibrations against her hand.

He turned away from the nebulizer, “I can’t.”

She pulled the bottle with its tiny wand from her purse, and began to blow filling the room with translucent, glistening shells of hope.

His eyes fluttered open in childish wonderment as she lifted him, lowered the wand and watched his breath growing stronger with each magical blow.

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She knew her story would raise eyebrows and stir controversy.

The story needed telling no matter how many people might squirm; the truth had a way of doing that.

She expected mixed reviews, but the scorching reprimand from her closest friend caught her by surprise.

“Skeletons should stay buried, not pulled from the grave of past sins and used as a legacy of shame over people,” her friend scolded.

“Let the chips fall where they may; this is my story, my experience, my truth to tell, so let the squirming begin.”