Damn It
“Damn it,” River grumbled as she struggled to push the garment bag back into the overhead compartment. The strong sweaty smell originated with the sloppy, baggy-shorted, millennial boy/man pushing up against her from behind.
“Excuse me, that’s mine,” the peanut-breathed owner of the baggage said as he came close to breast contact as he pulled at the bag River pushed.
“This may be your bag, but if you don’t move your hand, I’m going to kick you in the nuts.”
Baggy-shorts took a side step and stared. River pushed the next row of coach passengers back into their seats and forced her way two rows ahead. God she hated flying coach. Dusty and Rochelle always flew first class—a privilege of the perpetually overpaid and underworked.
“Welcome to Albuquerque and thank you for flying United,” the flight attendant quipped for the millionth time. River tried to crack a smile as she pushed her way towards the terminal.
She carried on her laptop and a purse the size of Manhattan to avoid baggage fees and the wait at the carousel. Only one person stood at the rental car line when she arrived.
“Oh much better,” River thought as she eyed the rounded derrière of the polished grey suited gentleman before her.
“Next?” the desk clerk commanded. Mr. Grey Suit turned abruptly and River not so accidently let him brush into her.
“Oh I’m sorry, excuse me,” her fantasy mumbled as he headed towards the pick-up area.
River snapped herself back to reality. “Damn it,” she mused as she signed the rental agreement
For the fans of flash fiction. Similar to how pianists warm up on the keyboard, or guitarists pick licks, writers can warm up to their characters with 250 word character snapshots. How do you like (or dislike) River Agosto?
Damn It! -- River Agosto
