"Tell me Miss. McQuaid. Where were you in 1916?"
One woman who is deemed the sweetheart of the town gets thrown for a twist when a lynching causes a series of events. Cora McQuaid is a flower of a woman with a past that has been hidden well for sev...
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The image above shows a man who was wounded during WWI. It was common to have a prosthetic like his that attached to a pair of glasses to make them seem as normal as possible.
With a stiff nod of the head she slips the envelope into a the bottom of the cash register knowing there was no other option to take the envelope.
"What can I get for you?"
"Do you possible sell plain donuts. No sugar, glaze or ic'in?" startled by the request of plain donuts Cora almost crumpled the paper sack in her hands. She hadn't had a request for those in a long time.
"I'll have to head to the back and grab some off the racks how many would you like?" The man held up five fingers with a smile on his face. The edge of his hair covered lip moving up. With quick steps to the back of the shop she pulls some fresh donuts that had come from the stove thirty minutes previously. The recipe that had been used was one that came from the trenches. Best seller at the shop were her donuts from most of the men. After placing five of them, she heads to the front but stops in the doorway when she discovers the bowler hat man was gone. On the counter rested a $5 bill well paying the cost of the 50 cent for the donuts. Placing the money with the envelope just Incase the man came back, Cora heads back to the back keeping the donuts in the bag.
The rest of the day went by almost completely normal other than the thickening tension. By afternoon the strange man had been forgotten by noon.
Heading up stairs to prepare a quick sandwich Cora placed her apron on the counter. In her left hand was several letters the mail man had dropped off earlier. The first two where bill related and the last was from her mother.
Pulling down the front of the secretary desk she opens up the thin piece of paper from her mother. The delicate handwriting that seemed out of place for a farmers wife scrolled across the letter.
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A large sigh escapes her painted lips as she reads the letter. Even though it was short, the letter was a good message to say her Ma missed her. The major shock was that the family still had her milking cow. Dolly was a feisty cow, kicked practically anyone that milk her or any bull that breed her, Cora was the only one to be able to milk her. Most of Cora's teens had been filled with caring for the cow.
