Tacrith had managed to make some professional connections in his years in Oba, and even a few casual ones, but there was not one that he would have considered a friend. He had never invited anyone out for dinner, or to his home, or to spend any time together really; aside from the budding relationship with his estranged brother. So, he was rightfully confused when he opened the door to head off for an appointment and found a loaf of bread wrapped in a white cloth in front of his threshold. It was small, but clearly fresh from the yeasty and warm fragrance rising from it to tantalize his senses. He knelt to look for a note or a card of some sort, but there was no clue to guide him to who might have dropped it off. Just bread and a cloth.

Well, clearly, someone had left this at the wrong door. It was tempting to take inside for himself, but Tac just stepped over it and headed off to go about his day. When he got back home later that evening, the bread was gone. He assumed that either the supplier had realized their mistake and fetched the loaf to deliver it properly, or some street hobo had snatched it up to fill his belly. Perhaps Finn had stopped by and run off with it? Not that it mattered what happened to the bread. He considered the matter settled, and he headed on inside for the night.

He was shocked when he went to leave the next morning and nearly tripped on yet another loaf of bread. It was just as fresh as the loaf from yesterday had been, and was wrapped in a similar, if not the same, clean white cloth. Tac again looked around to see if some sort of signature had been left behind, but it was again barren of any hint toward the giver. Maybe someone else had snatched up the loaf soon after he had left, making the bread donor think that Tac himself had taken it inside?

This time, Tac scrawled out a quick note explaining the repeated mistake. If the bread was taken again, at least the note would be able to provide the mysterious benefactor some direction. Again, he he got home that evening to find the bread missing, and the note was as well. Satisfied that the misunderstanding had been resolved, he went inside.

Despite his certainty, he opened the door a little slower the next morning. He could only stare at the warm and delicious smelling package in white cloth once again on his threshold. This time, a bit of paper was folded on top!

‘This is for you.’

Four simple and incorrigibly confusing words were written in neat and blocky print on the paper. Still, he hesitated to pick up the parcel. Who could possibly be trying to gift him anything? There was no one in debt to him for any medical services, he had no one that he considered a friend, there was no special occasion that he knew of, and there was certainly no way that Finn would have successfully carried bread from the bakery without eating most of it before dropping it off.

So who could it possibly be that was apparently willing to spend any form of extra time and money on him?

The note was unquestionable evidence that he really was the one intended to receive the baked good, so he finally relented and took the gift inside. A moment was spent suspiciously inspecting the cloth and the loaf and the note. Nothing seemed amiss aside from the fact that it was.. here. He had a client to get to, and he preferred to leave a little ahead of time to give himself more leeway for the walk over to pick up a bite to eat and to preserve his stamina. However, now that he knew that this tempting treat was indeed for him… Bread was best when it was eaten fresh, and it was not going to get any fresher by sitting around the place. It did not take him long to pull out a knife and cut off a few slices while the rest was wrapped and placed into a dry drawer. He made a sandwich with cheese and a few veggies, and set it onto a plate.

The sandwich sat for a long minute, just being stared at by wary eyes. Was there something nefarious mixed into the bread? It could have been a trick, or a trap. Maybe it smelled wonderful but tasted awful, or it was setting him up for a belly ache? It was utterly ridiculous to trust an edible gift of unknown origins! Still, he picked up the sandwich and gave it one more look before taking a bite.

It tasted like it was just bread. Good bread, admittedly, but still just bread. Before he left for the day, he wrote ‘thank you’ onto a note of paper and placed it outside his door.

He was acutely aware of what his body was doing the rest of the day. Every gurgle of his stomach and the organs beyond were observed with distrust, waiting for something to go wrong. However, he made it home that evening in a condition no better nor no worse than usual. The note was gone and he dared another sandwich for a late dinner. It was just as appetizing as it had been that morning.

There was no bread when Tac left the following day, but there was another piece of paper. On it was simply ‘you’re welcome,’ written in the same block letters as before. There was still no clue as to the identity of his secret donor. The mystery was going to be an itch on his brain for a while, but it also gave him a strangely pleasant feeling as well. Oba was feeling a little more like home.


(( word count: 991 ))