Cassie’s Coffee Shop Escapades – Flash Fiction Thursday

Cassie’s Coffee Shop Escapades – Flash Fiction Thursday

It’s been awhile. I have nothing but long and drawn out excuses that you don’t want to hear. They involve a wasp infestation, the fact that I can’t say no…and the genius idea of turning rentals into AirBnB’s but doing all the work myself. But, I made it. And I’m writing again. I even have a release schedule. What? Yup. And I thought my “back on the horse” flash fiction, would take place in the world of Karma Inc. which is my current series.

This is an unedited Karma Inc. short. All content © 2017 by Gillian Zane.

Coffee Shop Tales with Karma Inc. Operative Cassandra…

The Tumultuous Tot

It’s not easy being a Karma Inc. operative. The hours suck, you’re always on call, and there is neverending drama. I can’t remember much of my living life, but I don’t think I was much for the drama. I didn’t like gossip, or so I told myself. I didn’t like to discuss people when they weren’t there or stir any pots. No drama for this girl. At least when I was living. That little voice, that I didn’t really like much, whispered, liar…but it wasn’t much for honesty either.

Now I’m dead, and it’s nothing but drama. Drama. Drama. Drama.

This Afterlife wasn’t what I was expecting. Not that I expected much, in regard to being dead. Not many twenty-somethings give deep thoughts to life after death topics. Especially not this girl. I was invincible. I would live forever. I was so very wrong.

My Afterlife now consisted of constantly stirring up pots so the living could go on living and I could dish out their comeuppance. They didn’t know how lucky they had it. No use dwelling on it, though. I couldn’t change my fate.

A loud clatter from behind me made me turn around in my seat and gape at the mess a small child had just created. He was barely old enough to walk, but he had managed to knock a plate on the floor from his unrestricted perch on his mother’s lap. She made no move to pick up the mess. I was hiding out at my favorite coffee house, trying to get lost in a book that I might have read when I was living. It was kind of familiar, but I was still getting surprised by the plot twists, so maybe I hadn’t read it before.

The mother looked at me apathetically and then went back to scrolling through her phone. I turned back around and picked up where I left off in the book. The kid started to scream. I might have read this paragraph already. I scanned the pages trying to find where I had left off.

“Crap,” I muttered under my breath and skipped back a page.

“No, Praxton,” the mother repeated over and over again. It was a low voice. Non-threatening. Wouldn’t want to upset the kid. Another loud crash as something else hit the deck.

I couldn’t help myself, I turned around again. The woman was still scrolling through her phone, the kid was chewing on the paper bag her muffin came in while simultaneously smearing coffee across the table. It had been her coffee cup that had hit the deck.

By this point, a flustered barista had hustled over and began to clean up the mess the child had made. The mother didn’t even look up from her phone. Her aura now had me fascinated, swirls of gray were seeping in at the edges as the barista swept up the pieces of the broken plate and the woman refused to look up or say thank you. Compared to other auras I had the pleasure of viewing, her’s was relatively clean, but this behavior was grating on my nerves, especially as the kid began to scream when the barista picked up the crumpled napkins on the table.

“Are you still drinking this?” The barista asked in a shakey, timid voice.

“Uh, what?” The woman finally looked up, frowing at the intrusion.

“This, are you still drinking it?” The barista indicated the mess of coffee on the table.

“No.” She went back to her phone and the barista wiped at the coffee mess.

“No! No! No!” Praxton the wonder kid began to slam his fist on the table, taking a swipe at the barista as she wiped the table.

“Stop, Praxton.” Mom whispered.

Her aura darkened when the kid landed a hit on the barista and I smiled. Not because the barista took one for the team, but because now I could step in.

I sent a little urging to the brat with my manifestation superpowers of karmic awesomeness. That’s what I was calling them lately, only in my head of course. The kid ripped mom’s phone out of her hand and decided it would make a great drum stick, the table a wonderful drum.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bejewels flew left and right. I heard the distinct crack of the pretty, but not practical, case crack. In slow motion, one of the jewels from the case flew through the air and landed on the hand of the barista as she clutched it to her chest. She was still suffering from the pint-sized beating. She glanced down at the pretty jewel and was reminded that she was going ring shopping with her boyfriend this weekend. She smiled.

The mom screamed as the phone’s case cracked off and her precious, latest model, phone slammed into the table without any protection.

“Praxton!” She wailed.

“No! No! No!” He laughed. It wasn’t loud enough to hide the sound of crunching.

I stood and grabbed my book as the heady feeling of karma served washed over me. Another day in the life of this karma incorporated operative.

Liked what you read?

Check out the Karma Inc. series free on Kindle Unlimited.


  1. Nathan

    I liked this story. Sort of a moral fairy tale set in the modern world.

    • Parajunkee

      Thanks Nathan!

The Itch – A Flash Fiction Short by Gillian Zane

The Itch by Gillian Zane

The itching began about a month ago. A terrible itch that burned and bothered the girl from sun up to sunset. At first, it was just a light itch, she scratched at it haphazardly, leaving bright red marks on her skin. People asked if she had an allergy, she was unaccustomed to allergies, so she shrugged and itched more.

read more

Thursday Flash Tale – A Flash Fiction Adventure

We are trying something new on the PJV, we call it Flash Tales. It’s Flash Fiction, with a random writing prompt. Joss and I will be doing this, and we would love to have you guys join in. Or just read our stuff and let us know what you think. What we are doing is generating a random idea prompt, using the site Short Story Ideas. Then we’ll write a 1K to 2K tale based off of the idea generated.

Here is what the Short Story Idea generated for me:

A convenience store is the location, angst is the theme. A pack of cigarettes is an object that plays a part in the story.

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About The Author


Rachel, whom you might know as Parajunkee, is the blog owner of and the design blog To make matters even more confusing she is now a published author under the pen name of Gillian Zane. Rachel has been blogging for over eight years, designing / web programming for over fifteen, but her real love, reading, has been her favorite hobby since childhood. Rachel has won numerous awards for her writing, the blogs she has created and her design work. If you want to check out more about her books click "The Books" on the navigation bar at the top of the page.