Flash Fiction by Kate McGovern
She scraped the toast with the edge of the knife, the black flecks falling into the white porcelain sink like ash from a bonfire. The sound of the butter knife was, at first like the striking of a match, then ringing like a tuning fork as the metal hit the air. The sound grew with her force, echoing in her ears like the peal of a church bell in the distance. His heavy sigh interrupted the tune of her knife. He didn’t have to say anything- she heard the tone of displeasure in the clearing of his throat.
How many mornings had she burned his toast then scraped it to an acceptable hue, scarred but devoid of the darkness it once held? If only she could scrape away everything else that was unappetizing, unappealing, underappreciated- the silence between them at the breakfast table, the shot of whiskey he had with his coffee, the disappointment his eyes held as she placed the slightly overcooked eggs in front of him.
It hadn’t always been this way. Mornings used to hold them together, a quiet kitchen intimacy. He would read from the “Around Town” column in the newspaper as she prepared breakfast. When he finished his coffee he would fold the paper with crisp creases like his starched shirts, placing it before her with the crossword facing up. Their routine would end with three pecks on her cheek as he grabbed his coat and hat before heading out the door.
She hadn’t even noticed when, or even if, it shifted. There wasn’t one bombastic moment, there was no earth-shattering revelation. There was no seismic eruption, just years of steam slowly releasing through the cracks in the surface of their world.
The clicking of his lighter interrupted her thoughts, his signal to her to get on with his breakfast. He blew wisps of smoke from his cigarette, which drifted upwards, circling the kitchen light. She continued scraping the blade of the knife against the blackened bread. Beneath the char, a golden yet imperfect surface. At least the toast could be salvaged.
Kate McGovern is a teacher, writer, and poet. She shares her stories around San Diego, CA. When not writing, Kate enjoys exploring nature with her dog, Opal.
2 thoughts on “Beneath the Char”
Kate McGovern brings beautiful, lyrical language and exquisite metaphor into the substance of a story that is itself beneath the surface of this scene. Well done!
Beautiful told!