The Bakery


Huffing and panting, big Little Gary pulled himself up to the top of the hill. His face had turned a shade of tomatoey-red and his oversized shirt clung to his back, courtesy the sweat he had worked up climbing uphill. There was nothing more he would've liked than to sit down and take some rest. But he could not. He needed to do this. As if on cue, his large flabby belly sent out a loud rumble.  

“Don’t worry, mate. We’ll be there soon!” he said, adjusting his shorts. Wiping the sweat off his brows, Gary started to walk downhill, taking care not to tumble-down as he usually did. He caught a whiff of the aroma of fresh-baked bread, even before he spotted the place. Willing his oversized body to go on, he covered the rest of the distance down the hill and stepped onto the narrow cobbled street. He took a moment to gather his breath. Sweat poured down the sides of his face, and he continued to breathe heavily. But a wide smile appeared on his flushed face, as he spotted the sign.


The bakery was huddled between a pawn shop and a money-lender's office - both of them towering over this little outlet. Most of the space inside had been taken up by large ovens and shelves of appetising displays. Gary sighed as he saw the front door of the bakery. He was going to have to suck his gut  just to squeeze through it. For a moment, he hesitated.


Maybe, this was a bad idea, he thought. After all, he had been ordered by the doctor to eat healthy food and exercise well. But he had heard all his friends talk about this new place. They’d said that the bakery made the creamiest fondants and tastiest tarts. His stomach rumbled loudly once more, as thoughts of food took over his mind.


‘I’m only doing it for you, buddy!’ replied Gary rubbing his tummy, as he let the aroma of warm cookies lead him inside the bakery.


Gary patted his right pocket, and it jingled slightly  in response. His mom had cut his allowance, fearing that all the money they gave him was being used to buy burgers and cakes. Luckily, he still had a few shillings left.


‘What can I get you, son?’ asked the baker, glancing over the counter.  Gary paused for a moment, carefully eyeing the mouth-watering cakes on display.


‘What can I get for this?’ he asked in a timid voice, tiptoeing so he could empty all his coins on the counter. The baker counted the coins and frowned. ‘This one’s not giving me much business then’ he thought to himself.


‘You can pick one of those, boy’ he replied, pointing towards the lower shelf of the display.


Gary’s face fell slightly as he looked at what the baker was pointing at. It was a row of small cupcakes. ‘They still look delicious’ he thought, as he carefully observed them all, trying to decide which one to pick.


‘Oh, they all look so amazing! Can’t we eat them all?’ said a tiny voice inside his head. For some reason, it sounded like something his stomach would say. Ignoring the mystery voice, he picked the largest one of the lot. It was a small red velvet sponge, sprinkled with pink sugar dust. And on the top, there was a rich creamy vanilla frosting, with little chocolate chips in them.


'You really shouldn't be eating all this" said another voice - this one slightly gruff and sounding suspiciously like his doctor's. You're meant to be eating healthy!


Gary let out a loud nut nervous chuckle. He needed to ignore that voice and put on his beloved hat of 'wishful thinking'. It always helped him tune out these idiotic conflicting voices in his head and focus on what he wanted.


‘If I lick off the frosting from this cupcake, it’s similar to a muffin. And Dr. Perry said that muffins are healthy!’ he muttered out loud, as he devoured the tasty cup cake.


Today is Day Six of the #BarAThon. The prompt is  : 'Wishful Thinking'