Small irritations. Dishwashers left unloaded or loaded incorrectly. Milk left out and empty cartons returned to the fridge. Tops off toothpaste tubes squeezed in the middle. Used teabags staining the surface next to the sink.
Loose change in the fruit bowl and apples in the biscuit cupboard. Favorite phrases setting teeth on edge. Socks on during sex and big knickers with worn elastic. Laid back becoming lazy, tidy tedious, quirky just plain weird.
Differences discovered. Opinions offending. Words wounding.
Truths twisting. Dreams dying. Cracks covered.
Horizons shrinking. Bubbles bursting. Honeymoon hazy. Everything smaller.
Clinging to what’s left. Hoping it’s enough.
Alison Wassell is a micro, flash, and short story writer from the UK. She has been published by Reflex Fiction, Retreat West, The Cabinet of Heed, and Litro. Twitter: @lilysslave.
The Centifictionist 
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