Lavender Roaring Fork Clinchfield, as was his wont, strolled into Farbrisher’s Emporium nattily attired in, for him, a subdued ensemble of canary yellow striped seersucker, cantaloupe silk shirt, turquoise socks and tie, with matching lime leather loafers and beribboned straw boater. Chromium, an American Blue Gascon, padded in and, after he gave Miss Forsythia a good long sniff and a poke, took his usual counter stool. She giggled, twirled the hem of her watermelon lace eyelet sundress, patted the lean forehead, fondled floppy ears and coyly sipped her birch beer sarsaparilla. Chromium panted and woofed in adoration: Lavender ordered luncheon.
The Daily Post prompt
Authors note: This link Iron Hollows Fiction goes to the “Iron Hollows” category of 100-drabble fiction segments. They are not serially linked but rather vignettes set in and around the fictional town of Iron Hollows. I’ll be writing as the Muse moves, there is no time frame on posting and will depend on reader response.