Sunday Fiction

The A-Z Challenge takes a break on Sundays so I am posting a teensy story instead. And no, I am not the narrator here. I didn’t own a shredder in the first place.

Broken

It was lying on my desk when I got in this morning.

A single red rose that I am sure he thought I would be swooning about all day.

He has never realized that gestures like that are merely the icing. If you don’t have the cake – the kindness, the respect, the day-to-day dependiblity – the icing will make you sick.

Meanwhile, it turns out that jamming a rose into the paper shredder is terrible idea. It makes a huge mess and it breaks the machine.

Makes sense in a way, don’t you think?