Prompt courtesy of Lillie McFerrin‘s Five Sentence Fiction.
The lawn felt like dull knives on the bare soles of his feet. The sun coming up behind the houses glinted sharply in his eyes. He couldn’t remember what happened to his shoes, or his house keys.
He banged on the locked door, waking his wife. He slid past her eyes, pointed like daggers, and hoped she’d wait until he slept it off before bawling him out.