Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the cozy bakery. The delicious aroma of freshly baked goods filled the air, enticing potential customers to come inside. "I still can't believe she left like that without a word. I thought Agatha and Benny were perfect." Perfect? That's what we all thought, didn't we? But we were wrong about a lot of things. "The way she ran off with that accountant from the city? I never would have seen that coming in a million years." Funny how everyone thinks they know their neighbors, isn't it? Maybe if we'd paid closer attention, we would've noticed something was amiss. "Well, I did think it was strange when I saw her arguing with Benny at the diner last week. I figured it was just minor marital drama..." Love rarely turns sour overnight. There were likely signs we missed. "Oh, potatoes are graded according to their imperfections." What does that have to do with anything? "Yeah. They get dumped into separate slots according to how many, because life's not always about saving those that are the most broken. Sometimes, we have to accept that things fall apart." And sometimes they get pieced back together again. What matters is how we respond to the breakage. No one spoke for a moment, the silence broken only by the soft ticking of the clocks on the wall. "I suppose in a sense, Benny's heart is like those potatoes. Maybe it's just too broken to save this time." If potato farming was a metaphor for life, Benny's heart certainly qualifies for top-tier imperfection. Still, there may be hope to fix this. "Agatha took his trust when she left, but I hear she's left before in other places, even her family." Agatha shouldn't be the focus here. Benny's gotta learn to fix himself. Forget parading front desk clerks and look beyond the surface. "Maybe this is all a good thing for him. A chance to start over?" Might as well call this bud soil for now. He needs time.