Lavender Roaring Fork Clinchfield’s vibrant tangerine and cream ensemble caused some to turn their backs. A quintessential man of the people he had time for everyone, although small town conversations were similar to prickly heat: you endured with gritted teeth. Chromium’s philosophy was simpler: food trumped all. Iron Hollows lay equidistant to all the great bastions of fanatic southern football powers. Only the most rabid would ignore his ecumenical weekly rotation of spirit outfits. They were normally the ones who ranted about faded nostalgic glory. The Tupelo Cemetery was filled with headstones of contrary evidence. Smoke rose above the ridgeline.
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”
“where there is snow there are complaints”
“thankfully the tavern had stocked up”