by Evan Nauman

One day some misty mourning, 7:30 I do presume when spring has not

yet come, when flowers have yet to bloom.

I bundled up real tight, from my bed I did arose, my tummy yearned for

baked goods before it surly froze.

I walked into town my head turned left and right, till my eyes did catch a
strange bakery that must’ve opened during the night. I do not remember
seeing it but my stomach did not care for the tasty smell of bread and

meat did pull me closer there.

The tall door opened politely a small metallic ding and behind the
counter stood the owner, a tall and darkened thing. As I did come closer
his claws antlers were surly strange, in his hand he held a carving knife

and to his side a jar of change.

He wore dark fur and bloodied apron, his eyes were sunk down low still
he smiled and said “good mourning” devoid of any bellow.
He showed me pies and pastries his smile was bright and keen, the meat

looked quite peculiar, something I haven’t ever seen.
I questioned his dish and he answered

“It’s my very own recipe~ Rest assured all locally sourced though

perhaps not cruelty free..”

My stomach growled, I shrugged and said I suppose I’ll take three.

I paid him well, he smiled and nodded
“How very kind of thee~”

A tip I gave I smiled and waved and off I went with glee
I ate all three which I didn’t expect but they really were quite tasty.
Only later did I connect the dots and I thought myself a dummy “dang I

really do need to stop myself when I’m hungry.”