A Tale of Bread Pudding

There once was a woman who thought it would be a lovely evening to have bread pudding. But this was no ordinary bread pudding, this was pumpkin bread pudding. Made with only the finest ingredients.

After she left her place of employment, she went to a local coffee shop. The employees refilled her jar of coffee beans and even ground them for her. She also purchased the most delicious looking baguette. It was a crusty baguette, the type Remy from Ratatouille would love. As she carefully took the bread from the kind employee, her hand was sliced by the waxed paper. Ouch, she thought, and as she looked down she saw a little cut. Walking out of the store, she greeted the coffee aficionado who was roasting coffee beans. He gave her a sample of the freshly roasted beans. Ah. Delicious.

As she drove to her castle, she thought of how exquisite the bread pudding would be. She thought it was even worthy of serving to her fair maiden sister, Heather. Who happened to be joining the feasting that evening.

Once the woman got home, she unwrapped her bread. Of course, as any good and caring lady would do, she began to chronicle how to make bread pudding. That way her friends and neighbors could read about it on her online story telling machine (the good 'ole blog). Photographs were taken. 

The recipe was splendidly mixing together. This would be a delectable bread pudding. It would be just sweet enough. Just dense enough. And certainly it wouldn't be a problem for the waistline. 

She knew as she cut the bread this was going to be scrumptious. The bread turned and the knife slipped. The poor choice of a knife cut her dainty digit instead of the bread. YIKES. She stopped cutting and ran to the sink.

She sat down afraid she might faint from the shock of the cut. A knock was heard on the castle door, she opened it. Heather, the fair maiden, entered. She helped the woman with the digit. 

When the master of the castle joined them from his excursion, he rushed to the woman. He kissed her hand and assured her she would live. His proclamation brought her happiness: the digit would be saved and a trip to the physician would not be necessary.

As any good tale should end, the woman's digit was spared.

But the best news was that the fair maiden came to the bread's rescue. And the three feasted on melt-in-your-mouth pumpkin bread pudding. 

Someday, the woman mused, she would share her recipe for the infamous bread pudding!

The end.

I'm joining another Heather (Extraordinary Ordinary) for Just Write Tuesday.