Free Fiction: Pumpkin Spice Season

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The world around me shook.

“What’s happening?” I shrieked. “Whoa, is that what I sound like?”

“Eh, shut up and enjoy the ride,” a crotchety voice came from somewhere behind me. Below me, maybe? I was so disoriented. Between the world shaking and the darkness, it wasn’t like I could find him if I wanted to.

It was a him, right?

It’s a good thing I’m not afraid of the dark—or am I?

“Oof,” I said as my world finally stopped moving, rather abruptly, and I shook free from the plastic ring that held me in place. I was free! FREE!

I spun around just as my dark cave moved again and I fell over. “Sorry,” I muttered.

“It’s okay,” came a soft feminine voice. I couldn’t wait for the light so I could see her. It didn’t matter what flavor she was, I was willing to cross boundaries for a sweet little breathless voice like that.

“Will you two quit yer yapping? I’m trying to get a nap in before it’s off to fluorescent lighted hell.” It was that crotchety old voice again. I really wanted to punch him. If I had arms. I didn’t.

“How do you know where we’re going?” I asked, hesitation in my words as my insides sloshed around within my bottle.

“I’m French Vanilla. We are the most popular flavor. We are primed with our destinies early. As opposed to you short timers, we have longevity.”

“Hey, they prepped me too. It’s not autumn till I show up.” Pride laced my voice. It was cool to control the seasons.

“The seasons don’t ebb and flow under you, genius.”

“But I bring autumn with me. It’s in my name. Pumpkin Spice.”

The breathy feminine voice spoke up. “Oh, I do love an elusive man. I haven’t seen a Pumpkin Spice since last year.”

“Well, I’m right here baby,” I whispered to her.

Once again, the world shook. Tiny beams of light shined through the cracks in our box and I got a glimpse of her beautiful blue label. She was a French Vanilla. Blue and orange go well together. Oh, yes, we were meant to be together. We could make beautiful coffee together.

A giant peered down at me before his big hands grasped me inappropriately. He didn’t need to touch me there. “Hey, put me down. I just met a gorgeous French Vanilla.”

My cries were not answered as I was stacked atop a pyramid of Pumpkin Spice. I squinted in the lights that surrounded me. Silver carts squeaked as they rolled past.

A smaller giant ran by, knocking over the pyramid on which I was perched. We screamed as we fell to the ground and rolled every which way.

I came to a stop next to a bright red high-heeled shoe. A breathy female voice said, “Oh, Pumpkin Spice,” as she tossed me in her cart. I landed next to a box of Pumpkin Spice Cheerios. Poser. “I do so love autumn.”

 

 

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