Freddie left the red and white cannon at speed. He whizzed over the open-mouthed crowd in a graceful crescent arc and was quite frankly bored, bored, bored. The large frayed net loomed up, saggy as an ... [+]
Adriana Kantcheva's "Bread and Iron" was originally published in Short Edition’s August '19 Rendez-Vous. Adriana is a writer of speculative fiction with a touch of idealism. She lives in southern Germany with her husband, three children, and a view of the Swiss Alps. For more, visit https://catchingwords.com
We are simple people. For us, fulfillment comes from hammering a piece of iron into a useful shape; from plowing the black soil for the new crop; from kneading the dough for the bread we all need. My father used to be the baker in our small, remote village. He died years ago, but not before he taught my brother, Angus, the trade. From the time he could walk, Angus was allowed in the bakery to help with what he could. He'd bring in the kindling to start the oven, cut open the flour sacks, and shape the pieces of dough into loaves. When I was a little girl, he would make dolls for me from the l