Panini Press – Flash Fiction

“I feel like a I’m in a panini press,” she said as she slumped into the ironwork chair at the local brewery.

“How so?” her friend asked and twirled his finger to catch the waitresses attention.

“The sun above, baking. The asphalt below burning. I’m the sandwich bread and my insides are turning gooey, but not in a good way.”

He laughed. “What you need is a beer.  Sandra, we’ll take a round of the IPA and bring out some of the double fudge ice cream,” he ordered.

“You think that’ll help?” she asked as the waitress walked away.

“Babe, beer and ice cream always help.”


So, it’s one of those California bake everything in sight days. 102F on the thermometer. YUCK is all I can say. I was writing a bit of poetry and the idea of being in a panini press made me laugh. Except for the fact that my shoulders are burnt. Bleh.

Signing off


2 thoughts on “Panini Press – Flash Fiction

  1. Finally made it over to your blog. Flash fiction, yeah! It’s around 100° here in Portlandia right now, and 131° in our attic, which works like a convection oven at night. No AC, only fans. People are drowning in rivers. Heat strokes. Pubs all full. Yeah. It’s summer.

    • Right on. Thanks for stopping by. Ugh, in Portland that must be horrible. Yep, no AC here either. The house is a balmy 83 right now, finally cooling down. Ugh on the attic. That is awful. Yep, summer is here. Had I had the wherewithal to to walk the half mile up to the local pub I would have, but I was feeling like a blob of blobbiness. Haha.

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