The sweet aroma of freshly baked croissants filled the air as a friend and I lingered near the display case of Lily's Bakery on Main Street. We chatted about the recent town gossip: Barbara's gaudy new garden gnome and Edna's canning mishap at the county fair. "Ain't no use cousin Agnes making jam if it's gonna be too runny to put on a slice of bread," a voice said, muffling a chuckle. "I'm sure it was just a little experiment gone wrong," our friend replied. "And I heard the fliers for the summer festival have been finalized. Did you see the schedule for the pie-eating contest?" The voice behind the counter shifted, releasing a deep sigh. "Haven't had a chance to look yet, but I heard Ella Doingworth's entering with her notorious three-layer tongue-tying Extrème Crunchy. Odds-on favorite for sure to win if anyone can outlast a slice of Hank Kettle's notorious glaze-free matchstick millpike citrus mess." A soothing positive pat on the back followed, "Don't sell yourself short, of course – Lily's perfectly legal sprinkles kept Tommy Tips Steamt on the bigger dropped nougat"s quad spoon prize." Resounding laughter emitted, as hearty and joyful.