It was a bright and stormy night. Moonlight glinted off the snow-packed streets, sparkled from the falling flakes, and found an echo in the strings of lights around parking lots, in the lights around lightpoles, and in the light shining from the windows of a diner in Downtown Goldport.
Though the area had recently started on the upswing of gentrification,only that one diner at the corner of Fairfax and Pride was open during what would become known as the New Year’s Blizzard of 2015, the worst in Colorado history.
People inside wore snow boots and draped a multitude of jackets and coats on the back of chairs and booths. There was no motorized traffic except for emergency vehicles.
Behind the counter a very young man was cooking on a vast industrial range. A bandana confined his long black hair. His T-shirt had a picture of a dragon in the back and the words “I rise above.”
One of the waiters, an Asian man, wore a similar t-shirt with a red dragon and the inscription “burn them all”.
Suddenly from deserted parking lot there was a sound of something heavy hitting. Something say of the rough tonnage of an airliner, but more… meaty.
A young woman yelled from near the back door. “I can’t believe this.”
Okay, this is written on the fly and is NOT (repeat not) shifters canon. However, if any of you want to finish this story, just remember it ends with “we’ll never speak of this again.” Have fun.