Grime sticks on the dishes

The grime stuck stubbornly on the plate. Blood red, dried and flaky, remnant of the meal, they never finished. It started amicably but then turned toxic, like how it had always been. It was a relief if some of the dishes actually reached the sink. Rest unfortunate ones shattered on her face and stained walls. For his aggression she felt responsible. Always feeling apologetic. This meal was different. She had made a choice. The raised plate was resolutely grasped and snatched away. His expression changed from anger to fear. The plate struck on his throat. Tearing through his skin.

#99WordStories