It was because of the coffeemaker. In this case, me. I was doing something at the table, and he said you make it, you are the maker. Like you now, I sensed tension. No had been building for some sixteen odd years, and for some reason that evening I was ready.
What happened next—he or I blinked. There was, I’m sure, at least one pause from sound. Probably I made a small gesture that adds little to this story. The point is, he and I were two humans together under a roof. I was the human listening when he said, I could kill you. Anytime I want to.
One air bubble underwater floating up.
Kara Vernor’s fiction has appeared in Wigleaf, Smokelong Quarterly, Green Mountains Review, Los Angeles Review and elsewhere, and has been included in Wigleaf’s Top 50 Very Short Fictions, the Best Small Fictions finalists, and Outpost 19’s Golden State 2017 anthology. Her fiction chapbook, Because I Wanted to Write You a Pop Song, is available from Split Lip Press.
Artwork by: Sarai Deza
Sarai Deza (27, Pontevedra). She studied artistic and fashion photography and art direction. She is currently working in Madrid. She like develop an idea and find everything she needs to carry it out. She do conceptual photography and she like to use the color and the composition in the narrative.