Hello all. This is an entry for Sunday Photo Fiction. Coming in well under the word limit today – but for once it just didn’t feel right to add anything else. One thing I struggled with was the shortening of toasted sandwich – growing up this was called a toastie, but not sure how widely used that term is?
“Where’s your mum pissed off to this time?”
“Didn’t ask. Don’t care,” Layla said, almost like she meant it.
There was a greasy hiss from the toastie-maker as Rachel popped the lid.
“Puts a dint in those fabulous plans she promised?” Rachel guessed. She flipped the sandwiches onto plates and set them on the table.
Layla pierced hers with a fork. The toastie exhaled steam before haemorrhaging nutella-banana filling.
“I love these,” Layla said. “Better than birthday cake, anyway.”
Rachel raised a glass of lemonade.
“Happy sweet sixteenth, Layla.”