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… Continue reading Friday Flash: Gingerbread Kisses
Blissfully Buried in Books 