Wednesday, Wednesday, so good to me…

Oh, wait. Right song, wrong day. I have words to share this lovely Wednesday morning. I was lucky enough to capture the honorable mention for last week’s Thursday Threads flash fiction challenge. The prompt is: *“You should get out sometime.”* This is the third week in a row the prompt fits nicely into the same extended scene. In this case, it’s the beginning of the scene.

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As she stepped off the bus, the drizzle trailed chilly fingers across Aisling’s cheeks. She didn’t bother with her umbrella. It would do nothing to hinder the damp and with the wind kicking up, she’d just be battling one more thing on her way home. Having grown up in Seattle, Rochester’s sodden atmosphere didn’t hold a candle to weather she was used to.

The long block’s walk to Post House was made in semi-dark. She’d stayed late at the library. Again. Even after six months, there were nooks and crannies and vaults to be discovered.

There were times when she wanted to hunt down her predecessor and give that person a good rant. She made it up on the porch just as the front door opened. The Bees and Carla spilled out.

“Aisling!” Carla all but shouted her name. “Perfect. You’re just in time.”

Brad and Bruce nodded in unison. “Come with,” Bruce urged.

Aisling shook her head out of sheer reflex and took a step back away from the group.

Carla shook a finger at her. “Uh uh. We’ve talked about this. You should get out sometime. And guess what! This is sometime. We’re heading down to Cavanaugh’s.”

She couldn’t help herself. She asked, “The place across from the Daily Grind?”

“Yes. Ye old Irish pub and neighborhood watering hole.” Carla didn’t give her a chance, hooking her arm through Aisling’s. “C’mon. It’ll be fun.”

Pulled along, she wondered if those would be famous last words.
****

Y’all know the drill. Writers, do your thing, should you wish. Readers, have you ever been to an Irish pup? 🙋🏼‍♀️