The Baker spread flour across the work table, silently giving homage to Vesta, the goddess of the Hearth. Kneading the dough, he reflected on how hard the past few months had been on the bakery. The new tavern up the road specialized in baked goods and had really taken a large portion of the Baker’s business. He would be lying if he didn’t admit that their roast pig pie wasn’t better than his.
But things were going to change soon; for fortune had smiled upon him. Marko the apple seller, his old friend, had agreed to sell him several bags of his amazing fresh apples on credit. Reaching for the cinnamon, the smell making him smile, soon the scent of hot apple pies and fresh bread would be in the air.
It was only be a matter of time before they would be lining up to buy his wares and he would be on track by winter time.