It's Still Life

With Outdoor Seating, Too.

We’ve a bakery in the village now. A proper one – bakes their own bread. Cobs. Bloomers. Boules. Baps. It used to be a chip shop. After that a pedicure shop with fish in tubs of water that ate dead skin off feet. Then it was a dry cleaner, although the shop assistant was jailed for dealing drugs. But now it’s a bakery. Entrance door right next to the community notice board. Scraps of card: Lost cats; lost dogs; lost keys; Found: rusty bike in the creek; window cleaning; maths revision; roommate wanted. We won’t be wanting for fresh bread anymore.

Written for Ink In Thirds (100 Word Story – sans title)  Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.