The Carrot Ranch Literary Community‘s word prompt this time is Interlude. Since my last six sentences was about war, it was still on my mind.

My grandparents met in an interlude, peacetime between our nation’s many wars. Yet, turbulence attended their meeting.

My grandfather arrived from Ohio with Uncle Johnny Bivens, my grandmother’s grandmother’s brother. The men spent a night in the Douglas Nebraska, train depot, held by the first horizontal snow Grandpa George had ever seen—a plains blizzard.

Later, the town cop, drawn by light in the station, came to make sure the escaped murders from the state penitentiary hadn’t holed up there.

Once the excitement ended, though, Hazel and George had two peaceful years to assemble a grubstake and get acquainted.