If you live in a place where winter isn’t usually harsh, but every once in a while it is, then you’ll get this story. Day ten of Flash Fiction February, with a snowball’s chance of being entertaining every single day of the 29 days in a row that I’m doing this.

The crunchy, frozen winter doesn’t want to end. It seems to maintain itself at the last minute, every day. This part of the country isn’t much for winter. It’s not usually a thing for most people. It kind of comes and goes. This year, not so much. There has been real evidence of a real winter, and it’s been going on a lot longer than usual.

That’s what makes it hard for Mike. His car is having issues, and he has to walk a mile to the road and then wait for his coworker Sarah to pick him up on her way as they work together. She’s happy to do it, of course; they’ve known each other since they were kids, and she sure as heck doesn’t want to work her shift by herself.

So Mike waits. Sarah usually has Mike by now; they’re usually half way to town by now. He wants to give her a call, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s being demanding or nagging her. He kicks at the snow. He lays down his little back pack he caries his things in, and he makes a snowball, then throws it at a tree across the road.

Finally, he gives in, and he gives her a call to see if there’s a problem or if maybe, terribly, she drove past before he was out there waiting. “Hi Sarah, it’s Mike, just checking in with you," he says. There’s a little silence, and she responds. “Hi Mike, things are fine here; you must be getting ready to start your shift. What’s up?”

“I’m wondering if you already drove past, or if you’re running late or something?” Mike asks sheepishly. “Oh!” she responds. “I don’t work today, Mike!” It’s my day off today. I just didn’t say anything; I know I should have. I kind of figured you had looked at the schedule.”

“Oh shoot.” Mike says. “Well, crap rolls downhill. OK, thanks, Sarah. I’ll give the shop a call, and I’ll figure something out. Enjoy your day off.”

“Do you need a ride, Mike? I can come; it’ll take a few minutes for me to leave, but I can come.”

“No… no” Mike says. I’ll figure something out. You should enjoy your day off.”

“If you change your mind, or if there isn’t any other solution, let me know.” Sarah says.

"OK,” says Mike. “Have a good one; I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mike hangs up and calls the shop; in the meantime, he starts walking. The phone rings, but he knows no one is going to pick up that phone until the store opens. He doesn’t know the manager’s personal number, so he just calls the store a couple of times to see if anyone is going to pick up. No one does. The store opens in ten minutes. “They’ll figure it out soon enough," he thinks out loud.

There is a large truck approaching in the distance. Mike figures he’ll try to hitch a ride into town on his thumb. It’s only a 15-minute drive from here; he’ll be late, but he’ll get there, and he’ll have a little story to tell.

As the truck gets close, Mike carefully stands at the back edge of the shoulder and hoists his thumb out there. As the truck, not slowing down, rolls past, it kicks up a sheet of sleet from the road and casts it all onto Mike. He falls backwards, and his phone goes careening into the ditch behind him. “Eff sake!” Mike shouts as he lands. “Ahhg! My phone!”

Mike shakes himself to his feet and runs back to the ditch, where his phone is. “Where is it?” he says to himself. "Doggone it.” He finds the phone and wipes it down with his wet hand. “I hope it still works," he says. “Crap rolls downhill.”

Mike is soaking wet now; he has to decide whether to tough it out and wait for a ride or to walk back home. Regardless, it’s going to be a lousy day now; either he’s going to miss work and risk his job, or he’s going to be late, soaking wet, work all day like that, and risk catching a cold or flu.

“Crap rolls downhill,” he says. “Crap rolls downhill, and I’m the crap.”

Just as Mike is getting back to the shoulder of the road, a car pulls over to see him. “Hey Mike, what the heck are you doing?” It’s a friend of Mike's from town, Jim Crawford. It's small town life; they know each other. “I need a ride into town; I got my signals crossed, and I’m late,” he says.

“Yeah, I can drive you, c'mon. oh wait. You look all wet; what happened?”

“Well, crap rolls down hill, that’s what.” Mike says.

“My sister is getting married tomorrow, Mike. I just had the car detailed. I can’t let you in here like that. Sorry, Mike.” Jim says.

“I get it, Jim; it’s OK.” Mike says. “I’ll see you tomorrow though; for sure, I wouldn’t miss Jennie’s wedding.”

"Cool,” Jim says.

“When you get into town, can you go by the store and tell them my situation?” Mike asks, "That would really help.”

“I’ll do it,” Jim says, “no problem.”

“Great, see ya” Mike says.

Mike sticks his phone under his armpit to try and dry it off, so he can call the store now that they’re open, but the phone doesn’t work since it’s wet. He trudges along, hoping to get picked up, so he doesn’t end up walking all the way into town. As he continues walking, he’s looking at his phone, trying to dry it and find a way to make it work. He steps directly into a pothole on the shoulder of the road and gets a full soaker, all the way up to his ankle. “Crap rolls downhill," Mike says.

Mike stops. He puts his phone in his bag. He rummages in there for the extra t-shirt he packs just in case he needs one, and he wraps his cold, wet hands in it. He turns away from the road, and he looks out at the cold desert floor and the horizon of mountains in the distance. “I wonder how many winters like this one this desert has seen.” Mike ponders.

Mike closes his eyes and is thankful for the morning. He’s thankful for the day, and he’s thankful for the gorgeous visage of the sun above the mountain range, the light, wispy winter clouds, and the unusual winter they’re having out in these parts.

A rumbling pickup truck pulls up next to Mike while his back is turned. “Hey, Mike! What'reyadoin?"

Mike turns around, and it’s Jennie. The one who’s getting married tomorrow. “Hey Jennie, are you going into town?”

“Of course, Mike, Jump in; don’t mind the dog.” She says.

“What kind of morning have you had?” Mike asks Jennie.

“Well, I haven’t slept much; I’m nervous as hell. I’m getting married tomorrow.” She says. How about you? You look like you’ve had an adventure already.” She laughs.

“Crap rolls downhill,” Mike says. “Crap rolls downhill."

The End

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