Microfiction: If It Pleases Him

He knew what he wanted, and thus it was. Walking along the street, the street changed for him. The place was clean, quiet—the world clattered no more. The sounds of the annoying variety had been utterly ceased. Bread smelled extremely sweet if he so wanted. And every store was a bakery that made bread, should it please him.

And it did please him. It did not please everyone else, though. Someone didn’t like the smell of bread and decided that it was a heinous thing, an awful thing, to have such a power. The malcontent got others to agree that he had too much power.

Of course, it didn’t matter to him, this hostility. Attackers, assassins, all the like, they could just as easily be bread…

…should it please him.

Special thanks to: Melissa Potter

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