Story: “BREAD” by Ron Persaud
I recently volunteered to pick up and deliver the weekly donations of a supermarket to a church. Much of it is bread (not the kind you spend) which is nearing the end of its shelf life.
Last week, on the drive home, my thoughts meandered from stale bread to black cake and stopped at “Jack’s Baker-shop” – on James Street half way between Hunter and Barr streets in Albuoystown.
On the wall above the recessed counter Dictator Bakery was prominently and proudly proclaimed the name and nature of the establishment; while behind the main counter one or two women in full uniform with “starch and iron” aprons and caps would take your request (one just did not order) and put the items in your basket if you had one, or wrap the item in white paper (lesser shops used brown paper). If the purchase qualified for a paper bag, the attendant would put the items in one, pinch the top corners between thumb and forefinger and swing the bag in a complete circle a few times and your purchase was sealed in. Continue reading
