The bell above the door jingled as Irene McAllister shuffled into Main Street Café, the heart of Gull Lake, Saskatchewan. The morning sunlight poured through the windows, shining off the laminate tables and metal-framed chairs arranged neatly in the cozy space. Known affectionately as "Granny Irene," she made her way to her usual seat by the window, where the café owner, Agnes, had already set out her morning coffee.

Charlie Boone was already at the table, a mug of black coffee in front of him and a streak of grease still visible on his hand. "Morning, Irene," he greeted with a nod, tipping his cap. "Heard there’s buzz about the grand opening of the Frontier Trading Post over in Tompkins. They’ve got cowboy poetry and everything."

"I’ve heard about it too," Irene replied with a chuckle as she eased into the chair across from him. "Seems like the whole town’s talking about the poetry and live music. Should be quite the celebration."

The door swung open again, and in came Edna Briggs. She made her way to their table, scarf wound tight around her neck, already wearing her trademark grimace. "What’s with all the potholes in this town?" she demanded as she sat down with a huff. "I had to swerve three times just to avoid losing a tire. And don’t even get me started on the one near the post office—it’s big enough to swallow a horse."

"Morning to you too, Edna," Charlie said dryly. "Always a ray of sunshine."

"Don’t start with me, Boone," Edna shot back. "Why aren’t they doing anything useful around here? We need action on these roads, not cowboy poetry at some store opening."

Charlie rolled his eyes, but Irene smiled. "Well, there’s also a townhall meeting in Tompkins tonight," she said. "Nora’s got a big EMS meeting about their new community program. Should be good for everyone."

"Pfft," Edna sniffed, "as long as the coffee’s drinkable and the chairs don’t squeak, I might go."

The conversation shifted as Evan Harper slipped in next, wiping dirt off his hands from the morning chores. "Morning, folks," he said cheerfully, pulling up the last chair at the table. "What are we all fussing about today?"

"Fussing?" Edna scoffed. "We’re just pointing out the usual town nonsense."

Evan grinned. "Sounds about right. Anyone thinking of joining the Survivor Challenge? I’d put a team together, but I doubt my ‘half a mind’ could survive past day one."

Charlie laughed. "At least you’re honest, kid. But you’d need more than a half a mind to beat Irene here. She’d outsmart the lot of you."

"I don’t know about that," Irene said, smiling slyly. "But I’d sure enjoy watching you try, Evan."

As the table erupted in laughter, the aroma of fresh-baked cinnamon buns wafted through the air, and the clatter of cups and plates filled the café. Outside, the quiet streets of Gull Lake hummed with the promise of another day.

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