The small town was bustling with tourists — and I was one of them on spring break from my university. It was the type of place that only seemed to exist as a pass through, a mere speck in the grand scheme of things. At least to outsiders, that is.

The main drag was filled with stores that sold cutesy knickknacks and quirky souvenirs. I walked along, window-shopping as my eyes glazed over. But then I passed a bakery, and the smell of freshly prepared goods made my stomach growl.

I turned back to the establishment and walked inside. The bakery was charmingly decorated, reminiscent of a time long passed. The walls were painted pale yellow, and there was a retro counter featuring an array of pastries. I surveyed the selection of doughnuts, muffins and other treats. I decided if they tasted even half as good as... Read More