Fried Chicken Shack Creative Writing

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The sweet smell of fried dough filled Jim 's nostrils as the door swung open and he was greeted by the pretty colored girl with curlers in her hair and it immediately brought back memories of fair food and the joyous summers of youth he 'd spent down by the shore. It could have been those fond memories of late nights spent gallivanting with his school yard chums in the twinkling lights of carny rides that had disarmed him, but more likely it was those warm hazel eyes set in the heart shaped face of the young woman standing before him. Either way Jim nearly forgot he was on official business, if only for a second. "Ah...Sleepin ' huh? I guess it is a bit late..." Jim stammered, his eyes freeing from her gaze long enough to scan the room. The…show more content…
It wasn 't until she turned from him and started to walk for the bedroom that it finally clicked in his mind, he had seen her before. She was a waitress, not in any of the diners downtown but in the colored joint out on Palm road. The good ol ' boys in town called it 'Nigga Ned 's Chicken Shack ' but Jim remembered the hand painted sign out front just said Ned 's Diner. Those same boys would crack jokes, but the simple truth was that if you wanted the best fried chicken in a 3 hour drive that was the place you went. Jim 's own graduation party had served that chicken and everybody had raved about it. That was when he 'd seen her first, Sophie, he thought he remembered her nametag had read. He 'd remembered just fresh out of high school driving out to pick up the big order of chicken and she 'd been behind the counter, dressed in a yellow waitress smock and just as pretty as she was tonight. It was that sauntering walk that had refreshed his memory. Those hips shifting back and forth like a woman with some bluesy rhythm hiding inside her, a rhythm of a woman much older than her years let on. Jim had to pull his mind out of the lustful reminiscing he 'd started, reminding himself again how serious the business he was attending to was. There was a dead white woman out in the swamp just up the road and if his Uncle Earl wanted words with the man of this house than things would be getting very serious very quickly. He nervously tapped his fingers on the stiff brim of his hat while he waited for Sophie
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