It had been a long day. We were cornered while leaving the office. A problem came up, and instead of having it dealt another day, we were made to find the solution, and we weren't able to, so there goes that.
Photo by Karwin Luo on Unsplash
Meanwhile, I forgot our meal reservation that she planned for me, my wife. I wasn't able to tell her that it wasn't happening, the meal and the outing. My phone was dead, and the thought rushed to me while I was on the doorstep. Of course, she will be mad.
I come in, and she is in the kitchen, probably because I came and she hasn't eaten as well. It's not too bad. I'll have dinner and then rest, that's what I thought atleast.
She comes to serve me while I am at the dining table. A plate with a sandwich and in it some pieces of vegetables, a little bit of mayo. When I took a bite out of it, I could taste the last day's meal that got left. It was a garbage sandwich.
She says, "Is it good?" She knows, and mocking me for the sake of it. "Yeah, pretty good."
I have lost the rights to argue or just say something back. It's not like it's my first time of blundering our plans. These things find my way.
Although the sandwich is quite vile, I don't know what I'm tasting anymore. She looks beautiful. Her eyes whiter than usual, a great shade. I can see she was furious, having dealt with her hair and just wanting to sleep in it.
"I'm sorry, I forgot there was a problem at the office."
"Order something for me then," she wants to know what happened but is still furious.
27 May 2026, Freewriters Community Daily Writing Prompt Day 3116: garbage sandwich
