![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joegodaSix inches of snow crunching under heavy boots, leaving foot craters trailing behind, showing the path of the weary traveler. Grey woolen greatcoat with the collar pulled up over near frozen ears, black fedora crowning cloud white mane and showing that better days were somewhere far behind. Round rimless eyeglasses, wet almost beyond transparent, perched above strong rounded nose and in front of pale eyes with pale bushy eyelashes. Cold, red cheeks burning with the cold, sat proudly above mounds of cotton beard that framed a small, yet generous mouth. Smoke colored gloves covered hands that reached through the blowing wind, with one occasionally reaching up to touch the brim of the fedora, to save it from whisked away into the blow. Greatcoat flapping open to show a bright red vest with golden buttons that protected a white linen shirt. Onward into the windish ice strode the traveler, step by ice crunching step.
Lights up ahead, coalescing into sleety blobs, squaring into windows with frames. Hatless heads and coatless shirts could be seen through the windows, and the traveler was gladdened by this. It meant warmth, not just of fire, but also of people. Automobile shaped mounds in light covered lake of white surrounded the green mound of the Silver Diner, an aging and comfortable green and silver island that appeared almost ghost-like as the wind swept the blowing snow 'round and 'bout it.
Mounting the old wooden stairs to the door, the traveler noted that not a speck of ice were on any of the treads. Crystals of fresh snowmelt had been sprinkled liberally to protect any visitor from slip sliding their way to a hospital. At the top of the stairs was a welcome mat that proudly proclaiming "Welcome!" in bright red letters. Hunter green holly sprigs and their poisonous red berries were imaged on the mat, surrounding the word, reminding stair steppers that it was the season to be... if not jolly, then red and green.
On the old spring aluminum door, the knob was a simple latch, easy to pull, but it too had been painted bright red. A sign on the window of the door also bid "Welcome", and "Watch yer step!" The front door led to a small entry room that was brightly lit, with windows all around to show the inside with the happy diners and the outside with the frozen air.
There were, in that entry room, three gumball machines, though one was filled with peanuts and another was filled with candy baked beans. The third was filled with gumballs large enough to make any parent think twice about the possibility of choking in a small child. There was, stuck on one of the windows that faced toward the parking lot, a small corkboard. On this corkboard were flyers for "Home repair done cheap!" with little pull-tabs with a phone number. There were business cards from near and far, each proclaiming the travels of someone else to somewhere else. Notices of lost dogs, washers for sale, babysitting offers, a church bake sale that was to be held the preceding August, all hung for the inspection of anyone caring to look. There was a coat rack and above it, a hat shelf, all used, filled to the cotton, woolen, synthetic, natural fiber brim with coats and hats and gloves and scarves of all colors and types.
The traveler stood in the warmth, letting his bones get used to it, feeling the glow start from the inside and move to the out, and letting the heat move from the outside to the in. Leaking through the door that led to the diner proper drifted the sound of Bing singing that he's dreaming of a white Christmas. Glasses could be heard clinking and the squeaking scrape of flatware on dishes gave indication that food was indeed served here.
Lights up ahead, coalescing into sleety blobs, squaring into windows with frames. Hatless heads and coatless shirts could be seen through the windows, and the traveler was gladdened by this. It meant warmth, not just of fire, but also of people. Automobile shaped mounds in light covered lake of white surrounded the green mound of the Silver Diner, an aging and comfortable green and silver island that appeared almost ghost-like as the wind swept the blowing snow 'round and 'bout it.
Mounting the old wooden stairs to the door, the traveler noted that not a speck of ice were on any of the treads. Crystals of fresh snowmelt had been sprinkled liberally to protect any visitor from slip sliding their way to a hospital. At the top of the stairs was a welcome mat that proudly proclaiming "Welcome!" in bright red letters. Hunter green holly sprigs and their poisonous red berries were imaged on the mat, surrounding the word, reminding stair steppers that it was the season to be... if not jolly, then red and green.
On the old spring aluminum door, the knob was a simple latch, easy to pull, but it too had been painted bright red. A sign on the window of the door also bid "Welcome", and "Watch yer step!" The front door led to a small entry room that was brightly lit, with windows all around to show the inside with the happy diners and the outside with the frozen air.
There were, in that entry room, three gumball machines, though one was filled with peanuts and another was filled with candy baked beans. The third was filled with gumballs large enough to make any parent think twice about the possibility of choking in a small child. There was, stuck on one of the windows that faced toward the parking lot, a small corkboard. On this corkboard were flyers for "Home repair done cheap!" with little pull-tabs with a phone number. There were business cards from near and far, each proclaiming the travels of someone else to somewhere else. Notices of lost dogs, washers for sale, babysitting offers, a church bake sale that was to be held the preceding August, all hung for the inspection of anyone caring to look. There was a coat rack and above it, a hat shelf, all used, filled to the cotton, woolen, synthetic, natural fiber brim with coats and hats and gloves and scarves of all colors and types.
The traveler stood in the warmth, letting his bones get used to it, feeling the glow start from the inside and move to the out, and letting the heat move from the outside to the in. Leaking through the door that led to the diner proper drifted the sound of Bing singing that he's dreaming of a white Christmas. Glasses could be heard clinking and the squeaking scrape of flatware on dishes gave indication that food was indeed served here.
