Today's #flashfiction #HauntingCoffee

“But baby, I can change!”

Optimus Prime* #quote

        It seems most likely I will be doing things with my friends both Saturday and Sunday. Yay shenangians. Though that means I'm going to have to probably write three stories tomorrow. One for that day and two for the days ahead, just to make sure I got something for y'all. I hope you enjoy today's and all those coming up. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Haunting Coffee

        All ghosts have a name. Mine is Jim. All ghosts have unfinished business. Mine is quite...anticlimactic. I led a fairly boring life so all I've got to speak for is that on the day I died there is one thing I didn't do.

I didn't finish my last cup of coffee.

        You know those characters in crime shows who conveniently have no family or friends so the plot doesn't have boring early leads that the detectives should be logically chasing down? I'm one of those guys. Except there's no interesting murder behind my death. I just don't know anybody. The only people at my funeral were my coworkers.

        So the only thing about me was my daily routine and my love of coffee. I would start my day with a different cup if I could, ordering the most strange and exotic things. I'd adjust them with sugar or whatever else I wanted. Most of my paycheck went to buying odd coffees from countries a few continents away. And my unfinished business was that I didn't make a very special cup of coffee that I ordered. The rarest strangest thing yet. I was so very eager to try it. I put the mix under the machine at work. I sometimes shared my strange coffees with the people at work. They called me the “Coffee Guy”.

        I've been haunting the machine for months now. It must be some special trait of ghosts to want something more than any sane human would. I wanted to taste that coffee. Through an accident by trying to make contact with the janitor I figured out I could possess people. I couldn't control them, but I could experience what they did. So I waited by the machine. Waited for someone to make that exotic coffee I ordered. Such a simple thing I needed done to rest in peace. But before I died that was the only thing unfinished on my mind.

        Someone finally grabbed it. That intern that I can never remember the name of. Well it doesn't matter what his name is. C'mon, make it! Make it! Why is calling other people over? He's telling everyone about the bag. They're starting to talk about me.

        I didn't I was never late for anything, but they seemed to noticed and talked about. I knew I was on time...and then then talked about me helping them with their computers. I don't remember them talking about all this stuff at the funeral. They were so quiet. I thought they didn't really care. The intern called the boss over. He made the entire bag for everyone, I bought a massive mix for a week's worth and he divided it among the whole staff. They put everything at halt in the office just to talk about me. They were all warm words. I thought they didn't much care about me beyond being the “Coffee Guy” but all of them knew my name.

        Everything started going white. I could tell I was passing on, and I hadn't even possessed anyone to take a taste of the coffee. I just went then and there.