Flash Fiction: Mug Of Beer

Sunday afternoon is my time to relax and down my mug of beer.

There it lies in the mug, the deep amber liquid with the perfect amount of froth at its head. I look forward to this time with my beer, when I can sit back and contemplate on where my life is heading. I work six days a week and I hate it when anything related to my work spills over into my Sunday. Speaking of which I hear cars approaching. God, this is such a pain. Now, where did I keep my MP-9?

That took quite some time. Nasty buggers. That will teach them to attack my house. Even my beer’s gone all flat.

They will pay dearly…


Word Count: 120

Prompt:

Sunday Photo Fiction – April 28, 2019

Photo Credit: Reena Saxena

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