Date Night at Hungarian Village

In response to the Carrot Ranch, 99 word Flash Fiction Challenge this week, I wrote about one of the most memorable places I have ever had the pleasure of finding. It was like pulling up a chair in the kitchen of the older couple down the street and eating whatever the woman of the house cooked that day. 

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Oh, we loved the non-descript storefront, because the fewer people who knew about this place, the easier it was to get a seat. Authentic Hungarian food was all they served and when what had been cooked every morning was gone, they locked the doors.

On the patched vinyl cushioned chairs, we sat patiently at a faded, red Formica topped table. Soon, a woman, whose age could be determined by counting the wrinkles on her face, delivered our plates. She wiped gnarled fingers on a food-stained, white apron and smiled. Then, she handed us each a fork and said: Eat!

12 responses to “Date Night at Hungarian Village

  1. What a great experience that must’ve been! I love the imagery, and I’ll bet the food was delicious.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautifully done, Annette. I could smell the food. Hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This was fabulous! I love Hungarian food. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I love the little details, Annette.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. SO SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR HEALTH PROBLEMS ANNETTE, I WILL PRAY FOR YOU FOR YOUR STRENGTH IN YOUR RECOVERY,

    Liked by 1 person

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