every other small bakery in our town had stopped selling loaves of bread..it was all sandwiches, sausage rolls, along with a big batch of frosted puff pastry apple turnovers, but dobson’s on main street still managed to beat the big overbearing supermarket on the edge of town by being blessed with a little charm. cedric dobson’s bread wasn’t anything to write home about, it was okay…it’s just…locals loved going there
his three motherless boys who he brought up closely by his side were constantly showered with little tails of insight in a fun way… cedric loved sticking his nose into everything they did, but it was done in such a good natured manner they didn’t mind…while these boys flew around the counter boxing up pastries and the likes, cedric just sat at the back on a high chair fiddling with a radio dial while gleaning every inch of local news from loyal customers. if any of them were in a rush, cedric would free up one of his lads to go do their errands.. that way he was able to detain customers in his shop a little longer for a chinwag… he often gave bread away for free to ones he knew were strapped for cash.
when cedric died in one of the usual generic ways, you’d have expected all those customers to be wringing their hands at his funeral..yet only a tiny cluster of them attended..it didn’t much matter, cause cedric wasn’t around to see his exit treated with such indifference. no… what mattered was while he was alive, he played life like a violin…the joy was all his… in time the boys married girls who had other plans for living, and weren’t encouraged to keep the magic of the little bakery alive.. young and old customers flaked away with alarming ease towards the killjoy supermarket, completely unaffected or changed by the sweet man who’d added flavour to their time here on this planet…
we bleat on about big business and politicians ruining our game, yet in so many ways, people make there own choices in this life.