The Baker This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Dark silver hair was pulled tightly into a bun on the top of the shop keepers head. The elderly shop keeper always had every single piece of her hair in the exact same place each and everyday. None of the strands of hair dared to fall from the grasp of the black elastic band that held the bun in place. Everything about the shop keeper was perfect; the whole aspect of everything the woman did was perfect.


What drew our attention into the shop was the beautiful window display that drew everyone’s eyes to be in awe of the beautiful work. Each season and holiday, the elderly shop keeper busted around the back rooms of the shop. Her movements were sharp but swift exact motions which she seemed to repeat over and over in time. From setting the heat temperature on the giant metal ovens, to the soft ease that she moved on her feet to the next task at hand.


In movies, they pictured the fast bakers as messy and distraught, but Martha was the perfection in her kitchen. The red apron that was tied around the base of her neck and around her tiny waste, never dared to collect a stain, or even a speck of flour or icing. Even as she mixed the different colors together, to blend colors into a new creation, the dye didn’t either dare to stain her fragile hands. Hands that showed the years of hard work and effort through the lines that bore her fingers and hands.


Each time she picked up the icing bag, you knew that a work of art was being created. Everything that the Martha did on her cookies, cakes or even pies, were her very own original work. With each line or dot of icing that she laid on a sweet treat, fell into the perfect exact spot, something not many people could do. If Martha messed up on a design, you could never tell, for she swiftly changed the design in her mind to match even the little mistake of icing that was placed. Everything was perfect.


And this elderly shop keeper named Martha, never talked out of her place, even when mothers and children or lovers bickered in her store. All that came from her face was a soft gentle and loving smile, followed by a pleasant “have a great day.” When the elderly shop keeper did speak, you could hear angels singing her praise. Each and every word dripped of perfect English and grammar. Her tongue dared not to slip up on a word or phrase; it wouldn’t dare to disappoint her.


No one could hold hatred in their heart for this elderly shop keeper named Martha. Even a golden aura seemed to reflect around her body. Hugging her beautiful figure, and personality. Anyone could tell that this shop keeper had been lonely through out her life, but her company was kept by the beautiful displays of art in her food. Each design reflected her peaceful and happy personality, and each request that she took for a cake or a batch of cookies, she added her own gentle touch to the design. Making the costumer more than happy to pay extra for the design.


As the years waived by her shop display windows, more and more tired worry lines seemed to play a game across her face, until one day, the shop keepers hair no longer fit perfectly under that elastic band that held her pony tail. Until one day, her apron dared to droop to the floor from its hook in the shop. When the elderly shop keeper gave up on her final day, so did her shop. The last breath the perfect and orderly shop keeper took, was as if it was the last shops breath too. For no color of beauty ever shown through the window displays again. No order ever restored to the some. Many would think that this elderly shop keeper Martha, might have been placing the shop in order to end when she ended, but when you gaze through those window displays again, you can see the elderly shop keeper Martha smiling back at you. With her perfect entrance into the world and her graceful exit out of the world.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback