Simple Stories by a Simple Man

A strange clatter startles me awake from my otherwise blissful slumber. The grogginess is slow to fade as I hear the creek of the living room floor boards. Twisting over I find I am alone in bed, Karen, my wife, must have had to get up in the middle of the night. The smell of her lingers on her pillow. Returning to a supine position, I sneak a glimpse at the clock. It reads 12:01 AM. Closing my eyes I drift off towards sleep, soon a queer thought occurs. Today is the one year anniversary of Karen’s tragic death.

*

*

*

This is my first attempt at a micro fiction story. I set myself a limit of 100 words, no more no less. It is meant to invoke a sense of panic, then relief before circling back to panic once more. I’m not sure if I succeeded in this with such a short story but I’d love to hear your thoughts.