Every now and then, Charlie and I go to Frederick’s Cafe for a late breakfast. They have great biscuits and sausage gravy (a half order is enough) and home fries (we split an order and usually take some home).
I’ve been eating on that spot of real estate ever since we moved here. When we first came, Donahue’s (bar in the front, family room in the back), which served the best prime rib I’ve ever eaten, occupied that corner. I would take Mom for her birthday; she would take me for my birthday; on Mother’s Day, we would each get exactly the same thing and pay for each other’s order.
Then Mr. Donahue retired, and Olga’s opened. ‘Scuse me, It was called The Real Enchilada, but everybody called it either Olga’s (the name of the owner) or El Donahue’s. That’s where Mom once got a quesadilla as big as her head. It’s also where, as I posted on my old WEBLAHG, which this blog is supposed to be more professional than but isn’t, about a chicken adventure.
ANYWAY, then Olga’s closed and Frederick’s opened over on the Square, and outgrew the space, and took Olga’s place.
So Charlie and I went to Frederick’s and I got this doorway picture (at last!) with the doorway to the kitchen showing through a couple of arches. I like this kind of picture.
That’s Charlie’s brown fuzzy elbow.
The back of the girl’s head: I walked in and saw her with her parents, all of whom I knew, and I thought, my gosh, little Katie must be a teenager by now! Then we said a few words to each other, and I realized she’s probably in her thirties. How is that even possible? How can people I knew when they were born be in their thirties, when I’m not even in my thirties yet?
It’s a mystery.
What isn’t a mystery is that Thursday Doors is brought to you courtesy of Norm Frampton. Visit his blog, view his photos, scroll to the bottom of any of his Thursday Doors posts, click on the blue frog button, and find links to doors from all over the world. You’ll be glad you did.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Your character has a time shock at seeing someone they knew from long ago.