August 28, 2017

The display of jewels twinkled on top of the square cut board. The baker’s assistant nervously shifted her weight from foot to foot. And why not? She had won the right to select one jewel by winning the hopping race, outstripping by a good margin all the other assistants in the flung far and wide queendom. The Queen tapped her shiny green shoe impatiently against the marble floor.

‘Well,’ she said, rolling her eyes, ‘make a decision. I haven’t got all day. Queens have duties, you know, some even more important than this, if you can believe it.’

The Queen was a sarcastic Queen, but her subjects didn’t care as long as she remained beautiful.

‘I wonder…’ said the baker’s assistant, her hands writhing and twisting, one in the other.

‘What? You wonder what?’ asked the impatient Queen.

‘Could I have the board instead? It would make such a splendid surface for kneading,’ said the baker’s assistant in a rush of words.

The Queen snorted slightly and side-eyed the wall.

‘Make it so,’ she decreed, and stepped briskly out of the grand hall, throngs bowing as she passed by.

And that is how the baker’s assistant came to possess the finest breadboard in all the flung far and wide queendom.



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