Abracadabra

My latest entry into the Flash! Friday context (1 of 2 entries, second entry here) with the photo prompt featured above and the word prompt to include a surgery. 160 word max, as usual.

I went downstairs for sunny side up eggs and instead found divorce papers treacherous side down.

Danny, the red-nosed clown, who made runny-nosed, filth-fingered kids squeal on their birthdays, was divorcing me.

Me.

On the papers, he cited “cruelty” as the grounds for divorce.

Sure, there had been that time I bashed in the tailgate on his new truck paid for with clown money, but I saw the way he looked at the waitress at dinner…

Sure, there had been that time I put three or maybe four? bark scorpions in his big dumb, red clown shoes, but he hadn’t complimented my new brown hair…

And sure, I now have a steak knife to his penis, which never did anything for me, but he’s the one that was trying to divorce me.

Me.

It was harder than I expected. After some back-and-forth sawing, it came off. With my smoothie blender, I made sure there’d be no chance for a reconciliation.