The Wistful Saga
The oven explodes. You hear it before you see it. A wet, tearing sound. Like a rib cage cracking. Then the smell hits you. Hot ash and burnt sugar. You are standing in the doorway of your bakery. The shop is in ruins. Flour hangs in the air like gray snow. It settles on your apron. It settles on your face. You do not move. You do not scream. The fire is already dying. The heat has left. Only...
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