Every evening on her way home from the office, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the quaint bakery on the corner of the street tickles her senses, enhances her cravings.
She is no fan of bread. The sweet aroma of flour mixed with flavoured oils and fresh herbs does entice her, but the mild taste is quite bland for her palate.
However, no matter how strongly she decides against it, she’d inadvertently end up walking into the shop every day to buy soft fluffy loaves of bread wrapped in crisp thin sheets of brown paper.
Sometimes, she wonders if it is the pleasant smile, the cheerful old baker, and owner of the bakery, greets her with. Or, the freshness of the ingredients that are kneaded into the dough; the delicate balance of temperatures it is baked at.
But, somewhere in her heart, there is a dissatisfied corner, long-forgotten and neglected, still cherishing an old faded dream from childhood. She’d wished to become a patissier once; own her little patisserie someday. However, the pursuit of a cushy job in a busy metropolis forbade her from nurturing that passion.
The bakery serves as the faint reminder of her unfulfilled dreams.
Daria Shevtsova pexels-photo-1070945