Pieces of a Troubled Marriage

   Broken shards of what was once her mother-in-law's crystal vase reflected a tall woman with curly brown hair crying in shame.  The heirloom had been left to her husband after his mother's death, and she had destroyed it.
   She dropped to her knees and gathered the pieces, ignoring how her hands stung.
   It had felt exhilarating--holding the vase above her head, feeling her insides jolt and prickle.  Her eyes had grown wide when the vase shattered.  
   A pile took shape under her bloody fingers as her husband's car pulled into the garage.
   "Good God!" he said, kneeling in front of his wife, "What did you do?!"
   He smelled of mint, and his clothes were rumpled.
   "How was your day, dear?"

Ch-Ch-Changes!

   "Panic.  Panic is the word that comes to mind," Curtis said to his new roommate down the hall.
   "Seriously?"
   "Yes!" Curtis exclaimed.  "I am not at all comfortable with this."  He marched down to where his roommate was sitting in the living room. 
   "You're the one who asked me to move in."
   "It's not that," he said holding up the bathroom trashcan.  "It's this."
   "...My old pads?"
   "Used!  Yes!"

Oy! Teenagers

   Sometimes I wonder why I wake up covered with chicken feathers and have a metallic taste in my mouth, but by now I've learned to just roll with it.
   The worst part is trying to get rid of all the feathers.  I can't wash them down a drain, because mom would just call a plumber and--Surprise!  How would I explain my way out of that one?  I can't throw them out my window.  Mom would find them in her garden when she's picking herbs or vegetables for lunch.  Flushing them in small groups down the toilet seems to be my most promising alternative, but just getting from my room down the hall past my little brother and sister's rooms to the main floor bathroom is challenging enough.
   Mom and dad always told me that I could talk to them no matter what.
   I think I'll pass on this one.

Thrifty Pinch

   Sylvia and her sister-in-law loved to shop at a local thrift store in their hometown, until one day they were walking downtown and saw a man running from the store with money flying behind him and a gun in his hand.
   Cries of help came from inside the store.
   The two called 911 and carefully stepped into the store.
   They shivered, because one gunman was still inside.