“What?”

It was one of those questions, which Becky always found difficult to answer. It wasn’t she couldn’t explain herself properly, it was just the stutter got in the way and then the smirks at the edges of peoples mouths as she did a machine gun impression in a variety of calibres and speed.

The old shadow of frustration reared its ugly head and for a moment she felt the small child with the buttoned up mouth come back again. Got to fight it. Got to keep on going.

“I w- w- w- want a d- d- d- divorce! “

You might hear me on occasions say, "Decisions. Decisions". It's kind of infectious. If you know me at some point you will be saying it.

Life is a string of decisions. Where they lead you, who knows but life demands you make them or it will make them for you in the style of a shotgun wedding. Good are good, bad become experience filed away in the memory under “opps”.

I thought I would write another piece of flash, particularly as I am in the process of re-igniting an old project and decisions seemed a good place to start.

I use Flash Fiction as a writing exercise, if you write it’s well worth doing to keep the mind ticking over regardless of what it produces.