One Great Bite
by Ann Thurlow
She appeared from behind a wall in the little bakery. Her face was partially obscured by a bonnet but when she peeked out, she smiled. Her voice was soft – was that accent German? In front of her was an array of baking — bread, cookies, luscious pies displayed demurely in white boxes. She told us, when pressed, that her favourite was the chocolate squares. Did she blush? We hemmed and hawed but chose instead the crackly oatmeal cookies. They snapped under the teeth but then melted away. They were full of butter and—dare I say it? Goodness.