Bakery at Dawn

In an alley where the dark has not yet lifted, the bakery door opens and warm air seeps out. Through the glass comes the sound of a freshly baked baguette's crust breaking. She holds a paper bag, takes out the bread wreathed in white steam, and brings it to her lips. The moment her teeth touch it, a crisp sound wakes the morning. From the coffee on the next table drifts a faint bitterness. Outside, a bus passes and leaves a shadow on the glass for a moment. She brushes the crumbs from her fingers and stands. Leaving through the door, she does not look back. At the end of the alley, the first sign the sunlight reaches gleams. The nutty scent still in her mouth scatters slowly along the morning air.