This is an edited version. I had to chisel a few hundred words off this beast. I made the mistake of thinking I was actually writing a mystery and not the nonsense I had intended.
This is a short piece of nonsense that I wrote for my wife and a friend of hers when they thought they were going to open a tea house here in Cold Spring. I wrote it for the menu.
The cheese had softened. The baguette loaf was sliced, and the chilled wine was poured into glasses. Charles had never proposed before, and the sweat on his brow wasn’t caused by the sun.
“Hop in, Mr. Danger,” said Sidney Green. “Grand Central Station here we come. You goin’ on a little trip? Helluva time to be goin’ anywhere’s. Rainin’ pins and needles out there.”