Chipped Plates

Monday morning breakfast served on immaculate china. Adjacent chairs. Shared prayers. His fingertips tentatively brush her knee, satisfied by her flush of exhilaration.

Sunday night’s supper served on faded, chipped plates. Silent, individual prayers. Opposite ends of the table. Canyons between her pinched lips and his downcast eyes.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Fifty



    1. I thought it was refreshing to try to be as concise as possible, though it was difficult to choose what elements to eliminate in order to keep the word count at 50. I opted to take out the middle.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s