Flash Fiction Practice

Rodia contemplates when to admit he's lost his job

The first face Rodia saw that morning was Mark's. 

"Hello, good morning." Mark said with a smile. "Breakfast?"

"Good morning. Thanks, breakfast sounds great."

Rodia sat down. Mark's face, which was peaking in from the kitchen into the dining room was smiling. His smile always communicated things without words. Today Rodia knew...