Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

The clock hands are frozen on 9:45, or seem to be. The marathon meeting at Guenther Widgets and Doodads is getting more uncomfortable by the minute; six sales people squirm in their chairs, sneaking peeks at their watches.

“Sales are dismal. We may have to close the doors,” old man Guenther says, voice cracking. Is that a tear in his eye? “We need solutions.” He points to Seth Talbot. “Let’s start with Seth and go around the table.”

I gather my thoughts while Seth rambles on...

It’s getting harder to sell the darn things, especially as money dries up in households around America. The question I ask myself each time I get rejected is, “If you had two lousy dollars in your pocket, would you buy widgets and doodads or a loaf of bread ?” The answer comes back “bread” every single time.

I’m last in sales each month and a huge disappointment to my wife.

“Have you ever tried to sell a widget or a doodad to a hungry family, Alice?” I ask her as I hand over my meager paycheck.

“Look Bill, we’re a hungry family that needs you to sell the hell out of widgets and doodads.”

She has a point.

“Bill? Bill!”

Mr. Guether’s voice brings me back to the meeting. “What’s your solution?”

I clear my throat. “I think if we retooled—“

“Retooled?” Mr. Guenther furrows his brow and folds his arms.

I think we should sell something in demand, like bread, but how do I tell Mr. Guenther without getting fired, and losing my marriage when he gives me the ax?

The hands move to 10:00.

“Meeting adjourned,” the boss says, “We’ll continue this retooling nonsense tomorrow, Bill.”

I have twenty-four hours to develop my half-baked scheme, or not.

I’ll run it by Alice.