Flash Fiction #5 (Dinner)



Alina Happy Hansen


He hums to himself sharpening his knives. Her voice echoes down the hall.

He positions himself, ready to slice. Her voice grows louder from down the hall.

He looks at the meat, the red, bloody slab and begins to cut, cut it all up, into

tiny bitty pieces until there is nothing left to cut up any more. Her voice echoes,

a scream, from down the hall. The sizzle of the meat in a hot pan. She calls out,

“WHERE’S MY DINNER?!” at the top of her lungs.



If you are reading this Thank you for taking time out of my day to read my writing!

I hope that you will return in the future!


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