Prompt (speed of dark) courtesy of BeKindRewrite‘s Inspiration Monday challenge.
The rain tapped at the windows. Grey clouds and grey skies washed out the reds, yellows and browns of the leaves stubbornly remaining attached to the branches.
He flipped his grilled cheese. He flattened it with the back of the spatula, bent over and lifted the edges of the sandwich the smallest bit. Then let it brown for another minute before flipping it over again. He let it rest on the cutting board, turned off the stove and dropped the skillet in the sink with all the other dirty dishes. He sliced the grilled cheese diagonally and carried it, one slice in each hand, to the living room.
Outside, the grey afternoon gave way to the solid black of night. He ate his dinner and reflected how quickly things slipped away if you didn’t pay enough attention.