She baked cakes.

She baked muffins.

She baked buns and rolls and bread. All dry, all bland, all pocked with air bubbles or rogue bits of baking soda ready to zing her tongue.

Why do my bakes fail so fabulously? She cried through the cloud of flour. Why doesn’t anything turn out? The batter she was working felt her dispair.

Ahh but what was she missing?

Excuse me.

??

I may offer you a pinch of magic for your kitchen toils.

She smeared the egg off her hands and onto her crusted gingham apron. Her eyes lighted on a small creature, perched in the oily tablespoon on the counter.

Just a pinch is all you need. The creature offered her a crock filled with a powdery substance, slightly blue.

She snatched it from him and tossed it into her dry ingredients bowl.

One hour of sifting, stirring, shaping and baking later, 2 dozen of the most perfectly round golden cookies were gleaming on the pan.

The creature stepped from behind the sugar bowl and said magic comes with a price, are you willing to pay.?

The woman stared him down while she sunk her teeth into the chewiest melt in your mouth salted caramel cookies she’d ever tasted. They tasted like her childhood, only the good parts, warm, comforting, safe, complete contentment. Perfectly sweet and salty.

As she swallowed her first bite she felt a slight tickle on the back of her neck. Then a tingle through her arms, and a disconcerting wave of vertigo passed through her being. Stars formed at the edges of her vision and then there was nothing.

She fluttered her eyes to reorient herself. Standing before her was the creature from her sugar bowl, but he was full size now.

Now you’ll pay, he jeered, with a glint in his eye.

As she stood, she took in her surroundings. Everything was grotesquely huge. Her kitchen table a sky scraper, the dishes she just used soaked in an Olympic swimming pool.

Am I small? She asked the creature.

You’re just my size. Terror washed through her he scooped her over his shoulder and began to run.