Bakery Reading Novels & Stories

he'd asked, those big eyes so much like mine looking up at me with concern. "Yeah, buddy. It's RiRi." "You should say sorry and bring cookies. That's what you tell me to do." So here I was, mid-morning, headed to Erica's house with my crutches awkward under my arms and a peace offering in a paper bag—pastries from Flour & Co., the only bakery in the city that could possibly compete with The Sweet Spot. It was the thought that counted, right?

I can see my father is touched to be included. "To Abigail, she leaves Bread." Our collective confusion shows on our faces, and Mr Thompson continues hurriedly, "Bread is a bakery located in The Lanes." "She left me a bakery? What? How?" I gasp. I look at my parents, and it is clear that neither of them has a clue either.

He pictured it on a Sunday afternoon. He'd been making bread — Sunday bread, the rhythm — and the bread was in its second proof, the dough risen and shaped and waiting for the oven. The kitchen smelled like yeast and flour and the particular warmth of something being made by hand, and he was at the table with the reading — the flavour chemistry text, the section on glutamates and umami, the science of why certain combinations of ingredients tasted the way they did — and somewhere around the third page he'd stopped reading and started thinking.

The bakery is almost as good as Ann’s food 😋 I’m all done for the day so I’ll see you back at the apartment 😘’ I smiled as I sent back ‘See ya 🥰💜’ I put my phone away and turned to Callie. “Did you want a snack or did Easton ask you to feed me every few hours?” I asked suspiciously. “Both.” She smirked. We walked into the bakery and the smell was absolutely delicious. “Mmm. Freshly baked bread is my favorite.” I mumbled. There was such a huge assortment of things to order. Pastries, bread, bagels, donuts, cakes. I knew I would have trouble choosing.

He was taking them to the baking room. The heart of the bakery, the production room, was a bustling hub of activity. This spacious, well-lit room was where the magic happened, where ingredients were transformed into delectable treats. The walls were painted a warm, creamy white, and the floors were made of polished concrete, easy to clean and resistant to the rigours of heavy foot traffic.

Alex stopped by the stand that Kiyo had passed, the one with red flags hanging on the front and the glass counter. Turned out that it was a bakery. There was an old lady that was managing the sweets by the counter, arranging them neatly. Since it was already in the afternoon, many of the sweets were sold and that left the counter a bit empty, so arranging the position of the breads is a must because the counter is see-through. “Ato…? Mmmo…?” Shitone asked as she sat straight on his hips. “Iyo?”

​The air in the bakery at 4:30 AM was thick with the scent of proofing yeast and the dry, white dust of flour. It was a familiar comfort, but today, the atmosphere was different. The silence I usually shared with Mr. Baker was shattered by the high-voltage energy of Sam Perez. ​"So, this is the recruit? My new right hand?" Mr. Baker asked, leaning over the counter with a skeptical squint. He looked Sam up and down—Sam was currently wearing a borrowed oversized shirt of mine and an expression of exaggerated readiness.

I feel like a wife talking about anything with his husband. Few people were entering and going into the bakery, it was a small one, in front was the shop, and at the back was I guess their house. "No, it's definitely on quadrillion now. Don't believe in the search results online." The conversation was still ongoing. I scoffed and he slid open the door. "You're bluffing me right now." The fresh-from-the-oven smell of bread that has butter and cheese was so heavenly. Different kinds of bread welcomed us, and one of the servers who had pigtails in red ribbon and was wearing a yellow ruffled apron smiled and greeted us.

“It’s beautiful. I love how lively it is.” As they strolled on, Lila guided her to a charming little bakery. "This bakery is the greatest in the area. They produce the tastiest pastries. Would you like to try some?” Hailey grinned, feeling a hint of her typical joy return. "Yes, please. The fresh scent of baked products diffuses the entire bakery. They took a seat to indulge in the sweets that Lila had ordered. Feeling a sense of familiarity she hadn't felt in days, Hailey savoured the buttery croissants and sweet tarts. Hailey exclaimed, her eyes sparkling,

"You know this is the first time I have been in a bakery?" "Okay, weirdo, calm down, it's just a fucking bakery," he said and walked to the counter. The bakery had high ceilings, wide plank floors, and wooden walls. It was warm inside due to all the beautifully prepared sweets. It smelt like rising yeast, fresh cinnamon, hot frying fat, and richly brewed coffee.