The bakery that baked dreams.
A magical bedtime story.
Every night at exactly nine o'clock and most bakeries were closing their doors.
The little bakery on Cinnamon Street was just beginning to glow.
If you walked past at just the right moment when you were sleepy from a long day and ready for something sweet you might notice the warm golden light spilling from its windows and the most wonderful smell.
Freshly made waffles,
Fresh bread,
Vanilla and chocolate and something else you couldn't quite name but that made you feel like you were being wrapped in the world's coziest blanket.
A little boy discovered it on a Thursday evening while walking his sleepy dog Biscuit.
Biscuit's nose twitched,
Her tail wagged and before the boy knew it she was pulling him towards a shop he'd never noticed before.
A cheerful bell jingled as they stepped inside.
Oh wonderful!
A visitor called a joyful woman with flower on her cheeks and the kindest smile the boy had ever seen.
She wore a purple apron covered in stars and the moon.
This is my evening bakery,
The baker said.
We only open when people need something extra special before bed.
The shop was the coziest place the boy had ever seen.
Soft music played in the background.
Strings of fairy lights were hung from the ceiling.
Display cases were lined with treats that seemed to actually sparkle.
Behind the counter an enormous oven glowed warmly.
The boy could see trays of cookies being freshly made.
What kind of bakery opens at night?
The boy asked,
Enchanted.
The very best kind,
The baker laughed.
Day bakeries make regular treats but night bakeries,
Well,
Will make the kind of goodies that help you have the most wonderful sleep.
Sweet dreams,
Cozy feelings,
All baked in.
The baker gestured to the display case.
We have snickerdoodle clouds.
They taste like happiness and make you feel light as air.
Chocolate chip comfort cookies that give you the feeling of a warm hug.
We also have warm honey cinnamon buns that taste like sunshine saved from the sunniest afternoon.
And my personal favourite,
She pointed to a tray of the most beautiful pastries the boy had ever seen.
Swirled and dotted with what looked like actual tiny stars.
Starlight pastries,
The baker said.
One bite and you'll feel as peaceful as a sleeping kitten.
Biscuit barked hopefully.
And for good puppies,
The baker added with a wink,
I have dreamy dog biscuits with just a sprinkle of sweet dreams.
She handed biscuit a bone-shaped treat.
Biscuit ticked eagerly,
Settled onto a fluffy rug by the counter,
And immediately began to snore softly,
The most peaceful smile on her furry face.
One starlight pastry,
Please,
The boy said,
And immediately felt happy just by saying it.
The baker placed the beautiful pastry on a small plate with a napkin.
It was still warm and felt like bedtime stories and stargazing and everything good rolled into one.
The boy took a bite.
It was the most wonderful thing he'd ever tasted.
Buttery and sweet,
With hints of vanilla.
But more than the taste,
It was the feeling.
His shoulders relaxed,
His mind grew quiet and calm.
He felt like he was being tucked in by someone who loved him very much.
Perfect,
Isn't it?
The baker said,
Pouring him a small cup of lavender milk.
Every treat is made with a different feeling baked inside.
Joy,
Peace,
Comfort,
Wonder.
I collect them all day long.
A child's laugh,
A cat purring in the sunshine,
The feeling of clean sheets,
And I fold them right into the dough.
The boy sipped his milk.
It tasted peaceful and made him think of summer evenings.
Can anyone enter,
He asked hopefully.
Anyone who finds it,
The baker said,
The bakery appears for people who need a little extra sweetness before sleep.
Sometimes it's on this street,
Sometimes another,
But it's always there for those who need it.
As the boy finished his pastry,
He noticed other customers arriving.
A woman in a uniform who ordered a comfort cookie and sighed happily,
A feeling of bliss washing over her with her first bite,
An elderly man who came in for his usual,
A cinnamon bun,
And a little girl in pyjamas with her dad,
Both getting ice cream in freshly made waffles that made them both giggle with delight.
Everyone who left looked deeply peaceful and joyful,
Holding small paper bags with stars printed on them.
When it was time to go,
The baker handed the boy a bag with two extra starlight pastries inside,
One for tomorrow night and one for whenever you need it.
They stay fresh forever,
That's part of the magic.
She gave Biscuit another dreamy dog biscuit for the road.
As the boy and Biscuit walked home under the stars,
They felt completely,
Perfectly content.
That night,
Tucked into his bed with Biscuit curled at his feet,
The boy smiled.
Thinking about the bakery,
He imagined the baker mixing and kneading and folding wonderful feelings into the dough.
And somewhere on Cinnamon Street,
Or maybe Maple Avenue tonight,
Or perhaps Willow Road,
The little bakery glowed warmly in the darkness,
Its ovens humming,
Its treats calling,
On magical racks,
Ready to share sweetness and peace with anyone who found their way through its jingling door.
The boy drifted off to sleep,
Dreaming of pastries that tasted like starlight.
Sweet dreams.
