Harold Snow wiped his hands down his apron and admired his handiwork. Twelve perfectly sculpted gingerbread ladies smiled up at him, their sweet scent wrapping like a blanket around him.
‘Grandpa, Grandpa, are they done, are they done?’ cried Izzy. She ran to fetch her step, dragging it screeching across the floor, before climbing up beside him.
‘Wow’ she said, stretching the word out as she gazed at the biscuits. ‘They’re just like Grandma’s. You did it!’ She stroked at his forehead with clumsy affection before adding, ‘Right let’s eat them.’
‘Hold your horses little Miss Fox. Firstly, they’re still hot and secondly they’re for Grandma, remember?’
They wrapped up warm beneath layers of wool and walked hand in hand to the bus stop, Izzy clutching the gingerbread in her free arm.
It was a short bus ride to the hospital, through slush filled streets, and a long ride in the lift to the highest floor.
‘Look Grandma! Look what Grandpa made!’ Izzy tore into the room leaping onto the bed. She pulled open the box with an exaggerated sniff. ‘Grandpa says you’ll be able to smell them. Don’t they smell ‘licious?’
Izzy turned to Harold ‘I don’t think she’s hungry Grandpa’
‘No’ said Harold ‘Perhaps not’
Photo credit: Jade Wong
Word Count: 205 (almost)
This was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Al Forbes. The idea is to write a story with the photo as a prompt in 200 words or less.
Thanks for reading x