"I poured batter into the sizzling hot skillets, watched as the golden edges seared the edges. The smell of sweet vanilla and brown sugar wafted through the air, entwining with the scent of fresh bread." The baker shook her head, a look of dismay on her face. Outside, the morning sunlight cast a warm glow over the bakery, bathing the display cases in a soft, golden light. "Can't keep this up, Annie. The coffee shop down the street is making bank off breakfast rush. And our customers don't care about our pastries. No, they care about their lattes and their bagels." The baker sighed, her hands moving deftly as she flipped another slice. "It just doesn't make sense. You've been experimenting with new recipes for months. This is all just a flash in the pan." The baker stopped flipping the last slice, her brow furrowed in concentration. "You're thinking about abandoning our traditional ways? Abandoning the customers who need tradition?" The air in the bakery seemed to thicken, heavy with tension.