I burn the bitter words to fine ash in the waste bin, add a swirl of water, and flush away the slurry. Alone in bed, I stare at the ceiling. It may be hours before I find sleep, or sleep finds me. We have a habit of missing one another.

Avery Mathers writes in the Scottish Highlands. His flash fiction and short stories have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, Every Day Fiction, 101-Words, 50 Give or Take, Triclops, and others.