Dawn had not yet reached the English countryside horizon when the local village baker, Samuel, got to work. In its stead, fluorescent lights flooded the bakery’s backroom to give him a full view of the surroundings. While gathering his ingredients, he hummed a little tune to himself, that his mom and dad used to sing. ...

There once was a cookie baker, whose skills proved she was a faker. Replacing sugar with salt, was enough to make me halt. She could no longer find a taker.