With a GLEAM starting to appear her still TEARY eyes, Amber RAKED through the pantry. “Here,” she said, shoving a box of pastry from the neighborhood BAKER at me.

Georg’ann

When little Esmerelda ate the WHOLE pie, her mother was quite STERN. The severe look and tone of voice was more crushing than the actual punishment they proclaimed.
Without pie, improvisation was necessary. Luckily mother had DRIED figs that she could serve with a drizzle of honey and a bit of soft cheese with just a hint of twang.
The GAMER in me, imagined the dinner guest comments and laughed inside to think how an impulse to devour pie elevated a simple, comforting supper among friends to one of unintended sophistication.
Leaning into thoughts of us all around the table, I wondered who among us would become the conversation PACER this evening? And would anyone lament out loud the absence of the promised pie? My mother was known to be quite a BAKER, and some disappointment was certain.

Heather