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Your nose twitches, catching the slightly acidic tang in the air. It’s a curious scent —some sort of cider, but not quite apple— that makes your feet move involuntarily; doing what they do best: following your nose.
Several other scents intermingle with your trail as you doggedly follow along. You sniff. There’s something sweet. Another sniff. This one’s fatty. Another one; it’s cheesy. Another; fruity. Another and your head spins trying to keep each rich scent separate.
Before long you’re met with a table, a girl, and a guy. Beside her sits a high pitcher of (the label says) pear cider. In front of her is a glorious spread of sausage, cheese, pies, scones, biscuits, and more.
“Which one do you want?” The girl asks, black curly hair framing her face, already handing you a cup of cider.
You hadn’t even realized your hand had reached out.
“Um,” you start, “Everything looks great.”
She throws you a beaming smile, “You’re kind, I accidentally made too much.”
The guy, blond-haired and grey-eyed, snorts, “No need to lie, sugar plum, you made exactly as much as you wanted to.”
The girl only rolls her eyes, though it holds no real annoyance, “You can think whatever you want to think, honeybun.”
“Uh,” you gently cut it in (before they forget you), “Do you have any recommendations…?”
Somehow, it feels like a trap. She grins, slicing a large chunk of sweet cheery pie and gently placing it on a paper plate before handing it to you.
You set down your nearly empty cider. Taking a quick bite, you barely hold on to reality. The acidity of the cider melts into the sweetness of of the pie; and the crust —the crust— is just perfect, crispy but firm; the cherries themselves are no slouches, they color every corner of your mouth. It’s no surprise you’ve eaten half the slice before you’ve realized it.
“It’s, uh, it’s good. Really good.”
She tilts her head, her downturned lips make it seem like a pout, “Just good?”
“You’d think so,” the girl sighs, but still smiles anyway as she refills your cup of cider, “Feel free to take as much as you want! Like I said, I made a lot.”
You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to. Your nose was firmly fixed on the assortment of treats laid out and as for your feet? Well, they’ve always followed your nose. This time was no different.
Taking a sip of your drink, you knew you’d be here for a long, long time.