Shattered Impasse

Each night it’s the same dream. I’m at a crossroads, where options are presented with faded, though legible signs. Just as in waking life, I’m paralyzed, unable to make a decision.

“Get your fat ass out of bed and make my breakfast!!!!!” His roar from the kitchen rouses me. My warm feet feel for my cold slippers. After a pitstop, I shuffle to the kitchen, heading for a cuppajoe.

“No coffee until you cook breakfast,” he commands, a sneer in his voice.

Undeterred, I continue toward the nearly full pot, grab it, turn, and hurl it at his head.

[99 words]

Thank you, Rochelle, for using my photo for this week’s prompt.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the host of
Friday Fictioneers.