Flash Fiction February 2019 Daily Update: February 12th

Are you taking part in #FlashFictionFebruary2019?

It’s never too late to start. Even one story for the month is one more than you had previously!

Today’s Story Title: Timing

Today’s Story Is #12 of 28

Today’s Genre: General Fiction

Today’s Word Count: 344

What’s your current story? How many have you achieved? Tell me all about it!

“Of course,” Trina sighed as she put the car in park. “Now it decides to rain.”

The sky had been threatening to rain for hours, almost all day. Instead of clear blue skies and puffy white clouds soaring by harmlessly, it seemed the skies were in a sour mood.Dark blue green thunderheads with a worrying swirl had been grumbling, weighing down the breeze all day. While it couldn’t quite decide if it wanted to blow hot or cold, but the wind was ever-present.

The single splat of rain on the windshield was followed quickly by another large plot. And then another.

“Stupid freaking- really, rain? You can’t wait five minutes?!” She yelled at the sky through her still-open car window. Trina turned furiously at the crank to get the car window up before the visible wall of precipitation sweeping down the road towards her actually struck.

Two and a half minutes, one now broken umbrella, and great deal of anatomically and atmospherically impossible profanity later, Trina stepped into the diner.

With her hair and her clothes now plastered to her body, she bore a striking resemblance to a half-drowned cat. Her limp grip on the inside-out and somehow bent umbrella had one of the line cooks turning away to chuckle.

And the quickly growing puddle on the floor had the red haired girl with a bus bin on her hip grabbing for the ‘wet floor’ sign before Trina even reached the hostess stand.

“It’s just not my day,” Trina said to no one in particular as the wet floor sign was thunked down next to her. “Really not my day.”

“Booth or table, ma’am?” The tiny, blue haired server popped out from the tiny office behind the register with a small hand towel in one hand.

“Don’t care,” Trina said, wiping her face and glasses off with the towel. “I’m gonna go…” she looked down at herself, wincing. “Wring myself out a bit.”

“Coffee?” The server set her at a corner table, well away from the air vent.

“Please god, yes,” Trina said.

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