Write Christmas by Thommy Hutson

Author:Thommy Hutson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rosewind Books
Published: 2020-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

The town hall building was an impressive structure. All laid brick and stone columns in place before Samuel and Stella had arrived to help the area grow. Very little needed doing to keep the chief administrative building looking extraordinary. It sat at one end of the town, a circular stained glass window at the top, inspiring all when sunlight beamed through it.

Samuel had built Nicholsons Cards across the square to face the town hall. Two pillars of the community at each end to keep watch over the joy they could bring to everything in between.

But Darla ruled, and spreading happiness was not on her docket. In fact, her joy usually came when she stopped others from having it, or even its taste.

Her office sat down the marbled hallways, past the doors with leaded glass, all the way at the end. She’d chosen it not because it was the biggest room—that had originally belonged to the town controller, Sheri, but Darla had repurposed it into a storage area and given Sheri a room that might have made even brooms frown in its smallness.

No, Darla had chosen her office because of its distance from the front doors. She hoped the trek would wear out those coming at her with their ridiculousness. She also enjoyed the clickety-clack sound her heels made as she marched down the hall, reveling in the fear the sound caused in the hearts of those inside their own offices.

Right now, Darla had her heels off and she sat in her large, leather chair. The high back protected her—it did not overshadow her, she would be sure to tell people. Her massive desk mirrored her ominous presence. Papers were stacked high and she worked through them quickly.

Stamp, stamp, stamp.

There was a knock at the door, but she did not look up.

Stamp, stamp, stamp.

Another small stack moved to the side.

The door opened and Eddie walked in. He stood, silent.

Darla kept at her work, careful not to get ink on her fingers. Many in control, in charge, of a town might not take such meager office tasks into their own hands, but Darla couldn’t pass up destroying dreams with a quick, inked impression.

“Unless a monumental happening occurred since the last time you interrupted me, you have two eyes that can see I’m dealing with more idiotic requests,” Darla said.

She held up a paper. “A stunning patch of brightly colored flowers around the town hall entrance,” she read, then added, “Blah, blah, puke.” She threw the paper down, but made sure to stamp it, the red REJECTED symbol almost bleeding its way through the fibers of a Glenner’s hopes.

“People don’t understand all of that takes workers, water, and machinery, which translates into money, money, and money.” She moved some papers aside and folded her hands on the desk. She settled more deeply into the chair and leaned back. “Now, what can I deny you for, Mr. Cass?”

Eddie stood there. His eyes moved around. “Those lights are done and I’ve issued the citations you wrote up this morning.

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