Lavender Roaring Fork Clinchfield futilely brushed the scarlet velvet nap, the trousers and jacket coated with filthy slush, yellow leather knee boots soaked. The idiotic driver of the schnapps truck had deliberately swerved. Many harebrained memorandums did percolate from the bowels of the town council, the rejection of a pedestrian only Main Street was the worst. The lackadaisical manner of governance infuriated many: no plows caused picket lines to form. Rasputin’s Hardware sold out of shovels and bagged salt. Only one way to celebrate the first snowfall in twenty years, a hot tankard of mulled cinnamon cider and gooseberry waffles.
The Daily Post prompt
Three Word Wednesday prompt
Authors note: This link Iron Hollows Fiction goes to the “Iron Hollows” category of 100-drabble fiction segments or click each drabble link below. 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.
“the legend of the time before”
“along the non-existent waterfront”
“gunpowder explodes, fireworks delight”
“clouds play peek-a-boo with moon”
“homemade gravy for the grits”
“unsuccessful sultry spring seduction”