The Last Slice
Love isn't always spoken—sometimes, it's wrapped in foil and tucked away with care.
No one touched the last slice of pie.
It sat there, golden and fragrant, while laughter swirled around the kitchen like cinnamon smoke. Mom sipped tea, warmly. Dad retold the same joke. The kids rolled their eyes, grinning.
Everyone wanted it. Everyone pretended they didn’t.
Later, when the house quieted and dishes dried, Mom returned—wrapped the slice in foil, marked it with Dad’s name.
In the morning, Dad saw the note.
He smiled and twinkled, placed it in the lunchbox with a wink toward the stairs.
Family love isn’t loud. It’s in gestures, silences, and the last slice left untouched.
****
Author's Note: This drabble, of exactly 100 words, reflects the quiet, unspoken acts of love that define family life. Often, it’s not in grand gestures but in small, thoughtful moments—like letting someone else have the last slice—that our deepest affections are revealed. I hope this piece reminds readers that true love often lives in the ordinary.
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About the Creator
Muhammad Abdullah
Crafting stories that ignite minds, stir souls, and challenge the ordinary. From timeless morals to chilling horror—every word has a purpose. Follow for tales that stay with you long after the last line.
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