The Bread, the Harp, the Coil of Gold

The knock on my door is so quiet that I briefly doubt I’d heard it.

I hesitate, pen poised. One blissful minute of silence later, the knock comes again.

I have no appointments scheduled, so this is likely to be interesting. “You may enter.”

The door opens to reveal a young woman evidently trying for the role of a Swiss shepherdess. She carries a messily hand-woven basket in front of her messily hand-sewn dress, and her messy braids bounce on her chest as she nearly skips to me, cheeks flushed...