After breakfast

“After breakfast,” he whispered. “I’ll do it after breakfast.” And there I left him, standing by the window, procrastinating over what was to come. I paused by the open door, turning to offer a final piece of unwanted advice. “The longer you leave it,” I began. “I know,” he interrupted. “I’ll do it after breakfast.”

I stood for a moment, staring at the back of his head, willing him to turn and face me.
He never did.

I watched, trapped by my own silence, as his chest rose before he exhaled and his shoulders slumped.

“Goodbye,” I thought I said.


Happy New Year, everyone. Apologies for being absent for a few weeks (did you miss me?) but family commitments, festive laziness, work and many other excuses have caused me to not be here and worse than that, they’ve restricted the time I would normally spend commenting on your lovely pieces. I intend to put that right this month, and hope to consume as many of your Friday Fictions as possible.

Something a bit different from me this week. Do let me know if you like my departure from the usual silliness I spout!

Don’t know what Friday Fictioneers is? Get yourself over to Lady Rochelle’s blog to find out more!

35 thoughts on “After breakfast

  1. dmmacilroy says:

    Dear Mr. Binks,

    This was different and good and yes, a marked departure (for the better) from your norm. The conversation and body language was perfect and the ending rife with emotion. Very well done.



  2. rochellewisoff says:

    Dear Peter,

    I liked “trapped in my own silence.” Overall, this piece has a wistful feel to it.

    I did miss you and am happy to see you back in the front row.

    Shalom and Happy New Year,


  3. Sandra says:

    There’s such a lot that clearly going on, yet remains unspoken here. The atmosphere is heavy with tension and conflict. Good going and as you say, a departure from your usual offerings, which in themselves are always highly entertaining.

    1. MrBinks says:

      I think discovering the characters as you write (especially something short like this) allows a lot of room for ambiguity.

      (Read: I don’t know what’s going on either.)

  4. storydivamg says:

    Glad to see you back in these halls, Peter. I admit to being a bit jealous over your confession to “festive laziness” as my holidays were anything but lazy. But, it’s on to a new year and new stories–one of which you’ve woven rather neatly this week. The mystery of what he needs to do caught me a bit–I hope all works out in the end–although it appears the working out will be done separately.

    All my best,
    Marie Gail

    1. MrBinks says:

      Festive laziness applied only to writing. For the most part I was running after (my) children and doing lots of cooking!

      1. storydivamg says:

        Ah . . . I see. Well then, consider my jealousy rescinded. 🙂 As long as you had a wonderful time over the holidays–that’s what matters!

        Marie Gail

  5. Claire Fuller says:

    So much here unsaid. I loved it. Brilliant dialogue and just those extra two words ‘I thought’ in the last line bring so much more to the story, to their relationship to what might or might not be going on. Perfect.

  6. Caerlynn Nash says:

    Two things:
    1. “…trapped by my own silence….” I think I’ve been there. 🙂 Great phrase that says volumes.
    2. I’m left wondering what he is procrastinating over. Is there a good reason?
    Well done!

  7. Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist says:

    I don’t know what you normally write as I am new to Friday Fictioneers but this piece is great. It certainly leaves this reader wanting more. I may be morbid but I feel death is involved by the “goodbye I thought I said”. You have also captured that male/female tension of husband disliking constant reminders that a wife is compelled to give.

  8. Margaret says:

    A moving interchange between these two. The feeling of something huge sitting between them, although not identified, gives the story great tension and drama. Wonderful.

  9. wildbilbo says:

    This was really good. You could feel that… helplessness? resentment? The sense it is already too late for action, and yet he still procrastinates…
    Well done.

  10. Sandra Conner says:

    Oh, my goodness. I’m so entangled in this poor man’s dilemma. Please, please, write us a sequel so that we can find out what he must do and IF he really does do it after breakfast. I especially loved “trapped by my own silence” and “I thought I said.” Perfect.

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