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SmokeLong Quarterly

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Barista

Story by Sarah Black (Read author interview) March 29, 2015

That kid, hes as sweet as a Twinkie. He brought me a Mexican Mocha in a bright red cup, the foam on top a curvy little heart. Hes letting his hair grow, and the bangs are curling on his forehead like some guitar boy from 1967. Which I remember, being alive in 1967. He was born in 1987. Or possibly later.

I picked up the cup, sucked the tail of the little heart into my mouth, cinnamon, nutmeg, sweet chocolate. He watched me drink, leaning over the counter on his elbows. I knew I had a little mocha moustache but I couldnt lick it off, not with him watching. My face flushed red. It wasnt a pink blush, like this pretty, soft-eyed boy would do, but a real flush, a hot flash flush, and I had to stumble like a fool out the door, stand in the street and let the snow blow cold on my face.

About the Author

Sarah Black is a fiction writer.

About the Artist

Robinson Accola creates artwork for SmokeLong Quarterly as needed.

This story appeared in Issue Twenty-Four of SmokeLong Quarterly.
SmokeLong Quarterly Issue Twenty-Four
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A SmokeLong Summer

May 30-Aug 28!


From May 30 to August 28 2022, SmokeLong is going to host a superworkshop. We want to spend the summer with you, the flash community. Our workshops take place on a devoted website where you can create a profile, interact with the flash community, and take part in group discussions on craft, but A SmokeLong Summer will be much more.