Flash Fiction - I'm Leaving

My arm stopped moving in mid-air. The tea spoon clattered onto the kitchen floor, and I dropped the teapot. I heard it smash and saw the broken pieces scatter around my feet.

"You said what?"

"I love her Amy," Dave repeated. "I'm leaving you and the kids."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. As if I was paralysed, I watched Dave pick up his travelling bag and walk out, closing the front door quietly. I hated that. I wished he had slammed the door. That would have given me some sense of finality.

I crumpled in a heap.

(c) TP 2009