280: Bakery Window 🥐🍂
Daily Image created using ChatGPT (Anime AI Art)
🥐 Steam and Cinnamon
The bakery window fogged up every morning around 6:45, just as the first tray of croissants came out of the oven. Hana liked that part, the way the steam curled against the glass, softening the view of the cobblestone street outside. It made the world feel quieter, as if the bakery were its own little pocket of warmth.
She arranged the pastries with care, more for her pleasure than for the customers. The cinnamon rolls went in the center, braided cherry danishes to the left, and the plain rolls, consistently underestimated, on the right. She believed that a good window tells a story. Let them read it with their noses first.
Outside, the leaves had started to fall. A couple passed by, their coats brushing together as they walked. Hana recognized them; they came in every Thursday for apple tarts. She liked watching people before they entered. It gave her a sense of rhythm, like watching the town itself having a heartbeat.
The boy with the orange scarf came next, tugging his father’s hand. He always pointed at the cinnamon rolls. Hana made a mental note to save one for him. She didn’t know his name, but she knew his smile. That was enough. Then little Kara would pop in and, after some small talk, buy some rolls for her grandma.
Inside, the bakery smelled like butter and sugar and something older, something like memory. The pendant light above her cast a soft glow on the counter, and the jars behind her shelves caught the morning sun like stained glass. She wiped the fog from the window with a napkin, just enough to see the hills in the distance. They were turning gold.
