Clarence Hollow Farmers Market Novels & Stories

Clarence said with a laugh. “The hospital will not close its doors. We do not lack physicians.” “You don’t lack physicians? Do you think we’re all blind? Or did you come up with a bunch of quacks without medical licenses from somewhere?” A ripple of laughter rose from the crowd. Clarence was elated. He felt that he had thoroughly beaten Dustin and Simone. Dustin scoffed and looked at the street behind the crowd. There was the blare of car horns as several cars drove over. When people started stepping out of the cars, the crowd instantly burst into shocked murmurs.

Claire The food court, inside Claremont Shopping Centre, would have to be one of the busiest places on a Sunday. It was as if people in this town had nothing better to do than to flock to the mall, in hopes of escaping boredom. Gabby took hold of my arm and we weaved through the sea of people, on our search for an empty table.

Clara glanced at the time and told her friends, "It's time for me to set up the stall now. I guess I can't have dinner with you guys today." "Can I go with you?" asked Serenity. "I've got nothing else to do today, anyway." "Yeah!" echoed Lisa. "I'm going too!" "But the place is… a little far from here, and I'm only driving my mobile stall there, so you guys…" "I'll drive my car to the place and take Serenity with me, then," said Lisa. "Just tell me where it is." And so, they all headed to the location where Clara's little food stall was located. Once they got there, Clara began to set up the tables and chairs and prepared all the ingredients and cooking tools. Serenity and Lisa joined in and

Simply, like the word had been waiting somewhere and had finally been released. He started the engine. They stopped at the farmers market on the way home because Selene pointed at it and Avalon turned without discussion. It was the kind of market that happened on weekday mornings when most people were working — smaller than the weekend version, quieter, the vendors with more time to talk and the customers with more time to listen. They moved through it without agenda. She stopped at a flower stall and didn’t buy anything, just stood for a moment among peonies and ranunculus and something purple she didn’t know the name of, breathing it in.

“Public. Wholesome. Full of his neighbors and his kids’ teachers. Let him stand in the sunshine and eat a corn dog next to the people his work is helping to strangle. Let that do the work.” Lanc let out a short, surprised laugh. “Psychological warfare via kettle corn. I’m in.” The Saturday market was a riot of autumn color and cheerful noise. Pumpkins, jars of honey, the tang of apple cider filled the air. Clara’s booth, selling “Art Supplies for Future Troublemakers,” was doing a brisk business. Arthur was, inexplicably, winning at a ring-toss game run by the Rotary Club. I was manning a pie stand, naturally.

Maybe thirty years old, with dark hair, glasses, and a warm brown complexion. Clara's shoulders started to droop when no one who fit that description showed up at the registers or in the produce area. "He's not here," Clara murmured. Angela could sense the relief and disappointment in her friend's voice. "Maybe he doesn't work today," Angela said as she put down the lettuce she had been looking at. "We can come back—" "Wait." Clara's grip on the cart handle got tighter. "That's him over there, by the pasta aisle!"

Harrison tossed the prepackaged food Monica had grabbed from the convenience store onto the floor before crying for me. To make the clam chowder he mentioned, I would wake up at 5:00 am and head to the local farmer's market to get the freshest clams in order to ensure the flavors were as delicious as possible. Every now and then, I would go through all that effort to make it for him. Now that Harrison was sick, he finally remembered me. "If you don't want it, then don't bother eating at all. I don't care. I'm not as patient as that mother of yours!"

The market came into view in a flurry of color and chaos. Selwyn-Clarke Market was alive with activity, buzzing like a hive at full tilt. Brightly painted stalls overflowed with vibrant produce, fragrant spices, seashell jewelry, and handwoven baskets. The scent of smoked fish mingled with hints of lemongrass, tamarind, and fried breadfruit. Music floated through the air, and the rhythmic cadence of Creole voices made everything feel like a festive dance. As soon as they stepped out of the van, Jamie practically twirled into the crowd. “I am living for this!”

I say, before gratefully biting into it. The trip from Scarlett Cove to the next large island was less than an hour, but maybe it's the adrenaline from last night that's making me so ravenous. We keep walking through the farmer's market, observing everything. The stands are of all shapes and sizes, and some of them are built with old planks of wood, painted over with bright colors and retro designs. Winter squash, lettuce, and meats are everywhere, and the snow is padded flat from everyone's shoes. Alec and I blend in effortlessly, easily lost in the crowd of people strolling through the market.

CLARENCE HAD BEEN in a bad mood since the charity fundraiser event. She was mad and angry that her lover had done nothing to fight back at Adriano. After Adriano and Avery left the event, Clarence had tried to socialize and meet with other rich women to see if she could instigate more jokes about Avery, but nobody around indulged in her jokes. It was like everyone had suddenly jumped on Avery's side. Everyone except Laura Hill Vale. Clarence did not like Laura very much, but she knew that Laura shared in the same animosity for Avery, so that made them companions in hate.