After a couple weeks off editing I'm warming back up with some flash fiction. We had a prompt of a person in the rain and the request to highlight a fleeting moment.
74 Degrees and Overcast
Melinda wanted to focus on all of the loved ones she would miss, or the memories she would lose, or the fact that she would never see her grandchildren again. When that didn't work, she tried to think about the accomplishments of mankind, the entire course of evolution, and the natural wonders of the world. She should have cared about these bigger things that about to vanish, but she could only think about her egg salad sandwich from lunch. She’d only wanted to savor her favorite meal one last time before the end of the world, and she’d run out of paprika.
She tried to make the sandwich without the spice, but one bite of the bland, blobular concoction made her gag. She punched the sandwich and headed outside with her umbrella. Melinda, at least needed see what she could of the asteroid before it obliterated the planet. The emergency signal recording continued to educate her that the object was the size of Texas. It’s didn't say they should seek cover. The voice was resigned to only repeat this solitary fact over and over again. She didn't mind that the world would ended on a rainy afternoon, but that sandwich was infuriating.