The Baker

A young girl had stopped in my shop earlier, asking for some bread pudding and cakes. I told her that I did not have cakes, and she simply refused to talk to me. I offered her rice swells for half price instead, but she threw a fit and walked out the door, threatening to break my windows, and I cursed at her. She hissed back through the glass windows and pounded one with her fist, but not enough to break it, still assuring me that she would, one day, break my windows, by the braided ribbon in her hair.