Chapter 1
Adam yawned as he stood in line to the bakery. It was about 9 AM on a chilly autumn Saturday. While he’d normally still be huddled up in his bed and fast asleep, he was on a mission this morning. Sharon had brought a box of croissants to the office on Wednesday and ever since then he’d been unable to get the taste out of his mind.
Although he’d tried to forget about them on Thursday, he’d eventually caved in and asked her where he could buy them. She’d eagerly talked about the bakery, which he’d been standing in front of for the last twenty minutes, and it was clear that she wanted to spread the gospel about its delicious baked goods. However, she’d warned him that the fight for the croissants was fierce and that, no matter how many were made every morning, they were always gone by 10 AM.
Adam had tried to buy them yesterday before his commute to work, but, at 7 in the morning, the line had been out the door and down the street.
Who even has time to stand in line for croissants? he’d thought to himself at the time. And yet, he understood them. After all, here he was, back with a vengeance and a hunger for those magical pastries.
There was a quaint little golden bell attached to the inside of the door, and it chimed when he pulled it open and finally walked inside. Although there was a great view of the various baked goods from outside through the large façade window, the interior was so much better as the smells of fresh bakery flooded his nose and made his mouth water with longing.
The counter was arranged in an L-shape and there was a large display case with muffins, cookies, donuts, cakes, and a few of those croissants he’d been thinking about nonstop. Ahead of him were three people standing in line and he quickly went to join it, just as someone else came through the door.
I hope no one buys those last few croissants before it’s my turn…
Adam had a strange relationship with sweets and treats. After moving out at eighteen, he’d wound up in a cycle of junk food and snacks, weighing three-hundred pounds by the age of twenty-two. Then, when he reached twenty-five, he’d gotten his shit together and gone on a health kick. He’d managed to drop down to about two-hundred pounds, with almost all the excess weight being muscle. But still, he sometimes got these intense cravings for treats, and Sharon was a damn enabler.
The front of the line moved as someone finished their transaction. The number of croissants had gone down to six, and there were still two more people in front of him.