Prompt courtesy of Cake.shortandsweet‘s Wednesday Write In.
Toad cut himself.
He dropped the plastic razor in the toothpaste-flecked sink and stared at his reflection as the blood pulsed from his neck, a red river cutting through the blue-white foam of the shaving cream.
He leaned against the counter and muttered a curse.
The words seemed to have a life of their own and tumbled out of his mouth at increasing speed and volume until he threw his head back and shouted at the ceiling, his hands, white knuckled, gripping the sides of the porcelain sink.
He cursed the cheap razor for cutting him, the chemicals in the shaving cream for stinging his wound, the dirty mirror and filthy sink. He cursed the tiny bathroom in his one-bedroom apartment. He cursed his fat gut and thinning hair. He cursed that new knocking sound he heard in his engine on the way home yesterday. He cursed the price of gas, the condition of the roads and the never-ending construction projects that improved nothing. He cursed his shitty job, the unachievable goals, the lack of any kind of raise or promotion in the last five years and the smiling, perky assholes surrounding him.
Toad roared and cursed himself for letting his life turn into such a revolting pile of shit.
The bathroom door opened, the doorknob hitting him in the middle of the back.
“Everything all right in here?” his wife asked.
Toad turned on the cold water and cleaned the remaining shaving cream from his chin, cheeks and neck.
“Yeah,” he said. “Nicked my neck, shaving is all.”