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B3 Team 5

Page history last edited by RileyDeerest 1 year, 8 months ago

Dear Mariana,

     I left my house today. I didn’t do much, just visited a cafe nearby, which was on New Jersey st., nearby the big library. The exterior was peculiar, due to being big and sturdy, standing in the middle of a busy street, whereas the cafes we have seen have been small and quaint. You couldn’t see what was inside, unless if you went to the back of the alley and peeked through the windows in the kitchen, making your only insight the smell of bread coming from the oven. The pastries smelled sweet, fresh-baked pies had been placed on the window sills in the kitchen, attracting passersby on the street. You know how I don’t eat too many sweets? Today was different, somehow, this place attracted me. Whether it was the smell of the building looked odd, I had to go inside. 

     When I stepped inside, the array of smells hit me, being overwhelmed with the distinct aroma of smoke and buttercream. It reminded me of you, how whenever you pass me by and I be able to smell the trail of butter pecan and vanilla cream. My desire to be with you is fervid, I haven’t had the chance to visit you yet. 

     A plump woman came to greet me, she smiled at me with big pearls, and welcomed me. I could see the baker in the back, right behind the woman, dressed in a white apron that was covered in flour, taking out fresh loaves of bread. If I looked hard enough, I would probably see sweat. The lack of windows must have made the furnace ten times hotter, I almost felt bad for the man rolling dough day after day in here. It wouldn’t have mattered though, right? That is his job, after all, to make pastries and bread all the time.

     Seeing the sweets had made my stomach growl, some were placed delicately and neatly in an arranged order behind the glass counter, others had been put inside bread baskets, so you could pick it up and pay right then and there. Though, I wasn’t as interested in the bread compared to the pastries, which had a much more compelling look from the glass walls. 

     There was an array of options, apple fritters, assortments of pies, varieties of cupcakes and muffins, tarts, cakes, and a bunch of others I have never heard of. Most of them were pretty expensive, except this basket of star-shaped cookies, which had cost me about .15c from my pocket. Some of them went up to a dollar. I have yet to see someone pay a dollar for bread, which is highly unlikely. The insides were too closed in, barely any sunlight, but I had to eat inside, there weren’t tables outside of the cafe. Common courtesy. That was okay though, it reminded me of the wintertime when we were closed in for three days due to all the snow… If I could go back in time, I would. I just hope that I can meet with you, face to face, like the old times. 

     I haven’t heard from you in a while, and I thought you would like to hear about my day every once in a while. The warmth of when I had bitten into the cookie made your face pop up into my mind. When you get the chance, please write back...


               Your love,



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