Though she knew she would be eating alone, Theresa cooked the complete meal. The scent of nutmeg and onion filled the kitchen. The smallest turkey in the store, stuffed and skewered came out perfect, but lonely.
“Sorry we’re late! Got enough for me?”
“Me too!”
Friends, neighbors, lonely souls; the house filled. The plates filled.
Maybe she should have gotten a bigger bird.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
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