Cherry Ruffie
Right away your mouth begins to water. The enticing smell of freshly baked pastries grows stronger the further you advance until you are stopped by a massive glass-fronted counter. Clear shelves display row after row of baked goods with every item containing fresh raspberries. A nearby display boasts raspberry-flavored candies in many fun shapes and colors. A drinks machine off to the side offers bottles of raspberry iced tea, raspberry lemonade, and even raspberry cocoa.
“I see you’re admiring my wares. Anything you’d like to sample? They’re all delicious, but the chocolate raspberry tarts are my personal favorites.”
They prove to live up to her recommendation. You can’t resist having just one more. “These berries taste like they came fresh from the garden.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s because they did.”
“That’s impossible. It’s mid-January.”
Her eyes light up. “Perhaps you’d like to see my little plot. It’s just out back.”
Give the wind chill another chance to gnaw your nose off your face? No thanks. Then again, if you refuse she’s likely to kick you out of this warm and cozy shop and she doesn’t seem *too* crazy. Better to fake admiration over the weed patch and pretend not to notice the storage crates she’s sure to have tucked in the kitchen.
An unremarkable steel door admits you to another world. The sun shines on greenery enclosed in a simple wooden fence. Bright points of color are the raspberries themselves. They range in size from berries that could top the head of a pin to ones the size of a human skull.
Her expression is just a little smug. “You thought I was handing you a tale. Magic can be good for more than turning fools into frogs or avoiding the price of airline tickets. I paid a pretty penny for that enchanted fence and it is infinitely worth it. I must switch my beauties to a bare plot now and then to rest but they’re worth the effort. Many of these are my own unique breeds. The little ones make perfect toppers for pastries and the like. The bigger ones produce more juice so I need fewer berries to make beverages. Much less wasteful.”
You see an abundance of red raspberries, a few canes of gold raspberries, and a well-trained trellis of black raspberries with tiny red thorns. You have to stop and rub your eyes when you come to the blue raspberries.
“Ah, you’ve found my real pride and joy. Of course blue raspberry candies had to be flavored artificially in the past. I plan to put an end to that. Go on, try one.”
It has just the right balance of sweet and sour to take your memory back to days of spending your meager allowance on the giant suckers down at the dollar store, the ones that would last for hours and make your dentist do a happy dance.
“It really does taste like blue raspberry.”
“It is a blue raspberry.”
“Touché.”
“I’ve thought about expanding into other fruits but they simply don’t appeal to me the way raspberries do. They’re hardy yet fragile and there is no taste that compares.” She waves you back toward the shop and you go reluctantly. It’s like saying your goodbyes to summer all over again.
You fill an available basket with goodies as if in fear this quaint little shop will somehow vanish the moment you leave it. As you pay and turn to leave, she presses a small pouch into your hand with a wink. Peering inside, you see a glint of blue. “You be sure and stop back real soon.”
Credits:
Profile by 
Ziva
Pattern from here
Background from here
Story by 
Pureflower
