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A steady procession of headlights appeared like a string of pearls against the starry backdrop. Delivery trucks raced up a thorn-embowered path to a deserted building made of stone with skewed walls and crooked smokestacks. The mysterious convoy drove through a row of decayed wood doors at the loading dock. Instantly lights flickered on in the workshop and smoke billowed from the chimneys.

Old stone bakery on a hill

In the morning an elderly woman swung gently on a porch swing. Her grown son lolled on the rail eating a plastic wrapped snack mumbling, "Hi, Walter," to the postal carrier arriving at the front stoop.

The messenger lugged his bag quite out of breath, "Sure is a heavy load today. There is an announcement to every home in town about the grand re-opening of The Bakery."

"That decrepit old place?" The man laughed as he shoved the rest of the sponge cake in his mouth. "Who's going to run it, the rats?"

The woman held out her frail hand to receive the letterpress stationery. Her eyes twinkled as she vividly remembered, "When I was a child they made the most wonderful desserts." Suddenly her delicate face saddened, "Then one day... the workers just disappeared."

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