"The Sunset Inn"

The stillness of the afternoon settled in through the small inn's decor. The scent of sweet cherry blossoms lingered in the air like an elixir of delight. The late day rush was over and the tiny town was in siesta mode. The heat stifling, there she sat. Alone, but relaxed. Content in the moment and in her own creative world. Pen in one hand and coffee cup at her command. She sipped her pick me up and wrote wildly. The sweat drenched white aproned waiter worked around her and tried not to disturb her. She glanced his way and whispered a thank you for his kindness. She broke from her paper and sat back and took in the wonderful patchwork of people who were around her. The man who hitchhiked with all of his sole belongings on his back. The widower who honored his beloved and sat at their table at the same time everyday as if he was waiting for her return. The cook who yelled out order up with the command of a drill sergeant. As the sun started to set, she packed up her bag. The cranky muffled sound of a car pulled up to the front steps of the inn and she stopped for a moment intrigued and curious. A black suited driver shifted his gait one step at a time slowly and opened the door. He reached out to the hand covered with a black lace glove and lifted the elegant eccentric woman to the curb. The late evenings heat was conjuring up a storm that rumbled the sky in the distance. There the old mysterious woman stood, mesmerized as she stared at the old inn. She bowed her head, wiped her tears, and was escorted back in the car. The driver turned to the writer in the window and tipped his hat. The car disappeared in the dusty sunset. As the storm clouds moved in, the raindrops hit the ground and lightning flashed. Who was the strange visitor and what was her story. " To Be Continued"