DAY 8 OF FLASH AUGUST FICTION. This is one of those days when I don't have the slightest idea. Let's see what happens when I think of 'Iced Coffee'. OK. That's the thing. Here is my week-in-review blog post from the last 7 days of stories written on the spot. Another thing I want to do is recommend a writer I have been enjoying as of late, Stone Bryson. This dude is thoughtful. I suggest not only his poetry but also his essays and other things. OK. So let's see what happens with iced coffee. Buy me a coffee. Donate some Bitcoin. Thank you. I’m Commercial Herschel, and I’m here to help.

So Many Coffee Listening to this one is definitely better than reading it. You can find me at the web3 podcast apps, or Spotify, as well as this link. Search for "Smell the Inside of Your Nose. Do it Right Now", that is the name of my podcast,

Cyn was helping herself to some vanilla syrup at Liquid Crack, her local coffee shop. She was waiting for the rest of her writing club. She wanted to be good and jacked up for the meeting. Having anxiety, she was a half-hour early. She takes a big slug of her iced Americano with three espresso shots. Then, she goes over to the counter and places her coffee on the counter."Can I get some more ice for this?" They oblige her. "Thanks!" She says.

John Phillips was on his way to the meeting, but he was kind of stuck in traffic. He didn't care, though, because he was listening to some classic rock he hadn't heard in ages. "Seasons don't fear the reaper, nor do the wind, the sun, and the rain." He sang along to the radio. He was laughing because he remembered how he and his pals performed the song for a junior high talent show and scared the hell out of all of the adults. They got a big, fake, righteous lecture from one of the teachers, Mr. Weinberg. He was later arrested for being a serial child abuser. It's always the pontificals who end up being pathological. He has to text Cyn to let her know he'll probably be a little late. He knows she's anxious, and he knows if he calls her, it might be impossible to get her off the phone. He sends her the text.

Maribel was just across the street from "Crack," getting a vintage dress at Cordelia's Closet, when Cyn noticed her. Cyn runs out the door of Crack like a maniac. "Oh my god, are you so coming to the writer's meeting at "Crack?"

"Oh, for sure, I have to run home and drop off this dress first." Maribel answers.

"That's OK. That's OK. Just bring it with you. Let's go!" Cyn says this as she sees John's text. "Oh my GOD! John's going to be late." Oh no, well." As she looks up from her phone, she sees that Maribel is halfway down the street on her way home. "OK!! See you in a few minutes at the meeting!"

There are only 15 minutes until the meeting time, and Cyn is getting nervous about the attendance. "No one is here yet!" She says to herself aloud. "I better make some calls."

She called Jim Cloud. He ran the meeting last week, so she wants to review a couple of things. "Hey Jim, are you coming to the meeting today? It's in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, I was planning on it. Why is there a problem?" He asks.

"No, why would there be a problem? It's only that it starts in 15 minutes, but no one is here yet, except for me."

"Umm, OK," Jim says. Well, they don't want to be early, I suppose."

"What could they be doing?" Cyn asks.

"I... just don't have any idea, I know that I'm changing a baby diaper right now, and as soon as Jenny comes home from the store, I'll be heading over to the coffee shop myself."

[Can you please share this, tag people who might find it funny, or do something to help me get attention for my dozens and dozens of stories and half-dozen series?]

"Well, I hope everything is OK. I hope everyone makes it."

"I'm sure it will be fine, don't worry, we'll have a great time. I'm sure you'll run a great meeting." Jim says.

"I know how to run a meeting," she says. "I was a professor!"

Jim promptly hangs up.

==

DAY 8 OF FLASH AUGUST FICTION! WHERE ARE YOU? THE MEETING IS IN 15 MINUTES AND NO ONE IS HERE!

==

With ten minutes until the meeting, Cyn decides to call Angie Mays, who is also coming to the meeting.

"Hi Angie! Where are you? We have a meeting in 10 minutes!" Cyn practically yells into the phone.

"Oh yes," Angie says, "I'm just on the way there now, just cutting through the park, in fact."

"Must be nice at the park when we have a meeting in 10 minutes." Cyn says.

"Uhh yeah, well, it is a nice day, but yes, I'll be there, you know, walking there now.” Angie responds.

"Well, I've been here for a half hour, and no one is even here yet." Cyn says.

"Isn't the meeting at three o'clock?" Angie asks.

"Yes, but that's only 5 minutes from now!" Cyn asserts.

Angie is weirded out by Cyn's anxiety and her overbearing attitude.

"Oh no, I just twisted my ankle." Angie says. "Shoot!" I'm going to have to go home and take care of this, I guess I won't make the meeting after all." She also hangs up quickly.

It is now three o'clock, and there's no one there for the meeting yet except for Cyn. She is pacing around and talking to herself, making some people nervous and making some people giggle.

She sees a young couple watching her, and she walks over to them. "I have this meeting to run, and everyone's late. It's supposed to start at three o'clock, but no one cares except for me."

"Well,” the young woman says, “It's only one minute after three."

"I've been here since before 2:30."

"You don't say," says the young man sarcastically. His girlfriend kicks him under the table

Buy me a Decaf. +

Cyn is waiting at the table. She has adjusted the five chairs a dozen times, straightened out the napkins, the flowers on the table, and measured the distance between the corners of the table and the wall a few times as well. It is now 3:10, and suddenly John Phillips shows up, quite ebulliently.

"Hey, Cyn, how's it going?" Where is everyone?"

"Nice of you to show up, everyone else is late too. You might as well sit down and have a coffee, take a nap, take a walk through the park, go shopping, play with a baby, whatever."

"Oooohhhhkaaayyyy," John says as he raises his eyebrows, slowly turns around, and walks right back out the door.

"Get me another coffee!" Cyn yells to the barista.

The End.

Ever known anyone like Cyn? I have! Yikes! What a fun time that is. These stories go all over the place. This was an ending that really didn’t do much. Maybe it was the body of the story that was more fun. I had no idea what I was going to do with it. Please share and subscribe and refer me and all of that. I have hundreds of stories on here, and 120 podcasts as of today. I get a lot of interaction on web3 and support and good feedback, but not much on the regular interwebs. Can you share it and refer me to some friends? I have better luck cold calling publishers and representation than I have on these online platforms. What do you think of that? What do you think of Flash August Fiction? Buy me a coffee. Donate some Bitcoin. Thank you. I’m Commercial Herschel, and I’m here to help.