Excerpt from The Lick Skillet Coffee Club

GUYNELLE CRAWFORD SAT ON HER spreading porch, watching the sun go down. It was hard to believe that the days were already shortening. There was a certain crispness to the air now, and some leaves were already tinged a faint crimson. Her nostrils tingled from the spicy scent emerging from the Clark’s kitchen. Carrie must have baked her cinnamon rolls again.

Just across the street Alexander Park had emptied of its earlier walkers, and left the paths free of noise. Yet the tranquility was not quite complete. Her ears could just detect the splash of the fountain. Every once and awhile she could hear childish voices emanating from the Clark’s backyard. But mostly, it was quiet. She felt the rockers beneath her, going back and forth, back and forth, and slowly calming her.

Copyright 2017 Lynn Lacher