Novel & Cerita I Didn't Pray For These Baguettes

She poured her grief, her anger, her fragile hope into the delicate layers of the croissant, each fold a silent prayer for healing. Hours later, as the first hint of dawn painted the sky, Maddie carefully placed the warm croissant in a small box. She grabbed her bag, her keys, and stepped out of the cafe, the scent of butter and hope lingering in the air. The hospital loomed in the distance, a beacon in the darkness, a promise of connection and perhaps, just perhaps, a glimmer of light in the long, desolate night.

Some sort of royal kingdom, with him as king and me as queen? I met his question with silence as I dished out my meal myself. "Alright, let's pray," Alexander chimed in. I don't blame him. The money he made from my sale is affecting his brain. "Dear Lord, bless us this day as we have blessed others. May this food nourish our body, just as it has nourished our workers. Amen!" Alex concluded with a smile. Everyone echoed the same, after saying a minute of a stupid prayer they themselves knew were lies.

Christian walked over, holding a plain brown paper bag. “It’s not diamonds,” Alexander warned as I took the bag. “Before you get excited.” I opened it. Inside was a toasted bagel with cream cheese and lox from the deli near our apartment. The one I loved. The one I hadn’t had time to visit in weeks. My stomach growled audibly. Alexander chuckled. “I figured you skipped breakfast.” “I love you,” I groaned, inhaling the scent of the bagel. Alexander went still. The words hung in the air between us.

But now, I would do anything to get them back. "Skylar, dear.." I hear an old woman croak and I feel her boney hand latch gently onto my worn-out jacket. I turn around and see Mrs. Bisset clutching change in her hand shakily. "You're getting awfully thin," she states with her thick French accent. "Go to the bakery down the street and get yourself a brioche au café et à la cannelle."

I offered him an apologetic smile. Marcelle unperturbed, grabbed my arm; “I’m starving. We have a marvelous bakery on the grounds. They make the most delicious bagels. Can’t wait for you to try them.” She kept on babbling excitedly about all the pastries and other goods. Kane followed a few paces behind us, keeping silent.

And January 4th isn't my birthday. "When you asked me what I wished for, I told you that saying it out loud would make it not come true. “The truth is, I didn’t know what to wish for on such a strange day, sitting before a table full of food I didn’t like. "I have to say though, your acting was impressive. There were many moments when you almost convinced me. "Unfortunately, Mommy, the love you acted out was far from sincere. "With just a glance, I could spot a thousand flaws.”

was now perfectly positioned to catch every whisper, every sigh, and every lie. "Try ze baguette, Monsieur Prince!" I said, shoving the basket toward Alaric. "She is tough on ze outside, but soft on ze inside. Like... how do you say... a marshmallow in armor!" Alaric looked at the bread with genuine disgust. "I don't eat gluten before noon. It bloats the silhouette." "More for me, then," the silver-haired man at the end of the table said. His voice was a deep, raspy baritone. He reached out and grabbed the very loaf that contained my multi-thousand-dollar transmitter.

Carlo stayed in my small city for a whole week. For a solid week, he stubbornly performed for me, one by one, all the gestures he had once reserved only for Ava. Every morning at six sharp, a warm brown paper bag would appear on the doormat. They were the first batch of croissants from the best bakery in town. No nuts, not even a trace of hazelnut in the butter. In the afternoons, if the sky even hinted at rain, a new, long-handled black umbrella would be hanging from the doorknob.

Before Father Gabriel could drown him with words of comfort, Andrei nudged the duffel bag under his seat towards him, "I come bearing gifts." Intrigued, Father Gabriel leaned over, unzipped the bag and peeked inside. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked, leaving the bag exactly where it was. "I noticed the roof of the Lord's house needs fixing, and with the city cutting funding, you can't run your homeless shelter for much longer." "And this bag is what exactly?" "An act of God. Or an answered prayer. You choose." "I believe an answered prayer is more fitting in this situation. You have no idea how long I've been praying for a miracle."