Harold Snow wiped his hands down his apron and admired his handiwork. Twelve perfectly sculpted gingerbread women 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 … More Friday Flash: Gingerbread Kisses