“Last Chance for Snacks” — Flash Fiction Story.

Glasgow to London is long enough for many back and forths with my snack cart. Small but cramped but I managed to wheel the cart between the seats. An easy job that pays fairly decently and it's the final stop too with my mind focussing on finishing the last walk with this busted cart. “Last chance for snacks” my voice getting dry with this sentence slowly playing repeatedly in my head. A mother stops me in my tracks in dire need of a coffee so she can bear the rest of her day. As expected the child feels left out and notices the cookies, chocolate, and sweets but not forgetting our fruit are on full display, So it never surprises me when extra items are bought to keep the kid happy. The prices are extortionate but when you are in the mood, where else can you go, you will pay the price. Handing over the cookie and coffee (as predicted a latte), the £5 was transferred into my money bag and with a jolt of the cart, I repeated onto the next customer. “Last Chance for Snacks”…over and over again. It is been a long journey and people are starting to feel it, I can tell with how popular the cart has gotten. I am getting tired but I continue serving until I hear vaguely a scream of “peanuts” echo around the metal carriage.