Short-staffed

I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while. For once, I have a normal excuse: I’ve been hard at work getting the 2018 Winter Issue of Come and Go Literary together! It’s been an amazing experience learning how to use InDesign and organizing everything into, what I think, is a good looking online journal. 

I’m beyond thankful for every writer who submitted their work. I’m extremely excited to publish the first issue. I think you’ll all really like it too. I hope more of you submit for the 2019 Spring Issue when submissions reopen. But anyway, I’ve been focusing on that lately, and all that’s left to do is some final touch-ups. 

I’m taking a quick break from that right now to post some kind of story before I leave this really amazing coffee place in Babylon. If you’re a coffee lover on Long Island and you’re on a mission to find the best coffee places like I am, go to Babylon Bean. Easily in my top 5. 

I’ve been writing a ton of poetry lately, and I need to start getting back into fiction. I was hoping to participate in NaNoWriMo this year, but I’ve just been so busy with a million other things. Maybe I’ll start soon when the journal is done and just bang out 50k words in the next two weeks? Don’t hold me to it, For now, I’ll start small and work my way up. 

Short-staffed

There’s a line building with people growing more and more impatient the more they realize they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. It’s been about fifteen minutes. Everyone’s aware of how long it’s been, but they know nothing can be done; yet, they’re all frustrated regardless. The girl behind the counter is the only one working, running back and forth, side to side, hoping she doesn’t make a mistake that makes this day even more stressful. No one needs that. Experience tells her that even the smallest mistake will set not just her, but everyone else off. They’re all counting on her.

A small part of her finds power in that; she uses it as motivation to keep pushing forward. In the forefront of her mind, she wonders what would happen if she quit on the spot, if she just walked out with everyone waiting in line. It’s a pleasing thought, but she wasn’t raised to be a quitter. However, everyone’s testing her patience. No one is outright saying they’re annoyed, but their faces give away how they really feel. One person walks out. Too bad, she thinks.

The drink orders keep coming, but she’s in a rhythm now. They’re simple orders. Smiles are returning. Drinks are flowing. The tip jar is filling. Some say sorry as they pay with a card. They’ve been in my shoes before. We’ve all had a crappy job at some point. Others leave, but again, that’s their loss. The line’s back to normal. The pressure’s off. She has it under control. I can go back to my work. It’s weird how invested we can get in other people’s lives. I was never a barista, but I think as if I were. I breathe a sigh of relief as she does. She looks over mindlessly. I smile. She gets back to work. That’s fine.

 

Submissions

If you’re interested in submitting your own work as a guest post, please see my submission guidelines for more details. There are no fees, no deadlines, and no limits on genre. 

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