An Advent Calendar of Stories
December 16 2014
A Russian Coffee
Carl dragged his foot across the floor. Obviously broken it sat at a right angle to his leg –useless, now just an inconvenience slowing him down.
He smiled–'she would live a little longer.'
Carl lifted his head and sniffed, her perfume lingered pointing him to the wardrobe. Tightening his grip on the knife he'd taken from the kitchen where the smell of baking bread had made his mouth water. He lurched toward her doom and his desire.
Tearing the door open Carl desperately sought his prize, but was denied.
The open window and perfume bottle laughed, taunting his failure.
About the Author
Jonathan has been writing short stories for five years to keep sane, as yet unpublished he still holds out a hope that his wife and two dogs will one day reap the rewards of coffee and cake from the royalties.