Short Story: Mr Honey The Baker

Short Story: Mr Honey The Baker

Once upon a time, Mr Honey, the Baker, was putting a customer's loaf into a paper bag, then into the new fangled plastic carrier bags and he wondered if the process could be made simpler. Hard working as he was, he found time to look into it.

It turned out that he was not the only one to look into it, but conventional plastics where either too brittle or not flexible enough for the job. However My Honey did not give up easily, he had built up his business looking after his customers and he searched high and wide to find a solution.

One day, sitting in the library late at night he stumbled on a little used plastic, Teleprene, which seemed to have all the qualities he needed for his new idea. He contacted the manufacturers and obtained a sample.

It worked brilliantly, not so brittle that it broke as you put the bread in, flexible enough to cover the loaf, Mr Honey knew he was on to a winner. Quickly he ordered some more and set up his shop ready for his invention.

Soon all his bread was sold in Teleprene plastic covers so it stayed fresh and clean for longer. No longer did he have to put his bread first into a paper bag then into the customer's plastic bag. Soon knowledge of his invention grew and he sold it to many other bakers. So now we can all buy our bread like this and Mr Honey was a rich man.

Now as the good book says, “it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife,” and all the pretty young women wanted to be meet Mr Honey. Soon he was in love, married and with a child on the way. In honour of his business success they called their new daughter Teleprene.

Teleprene grew up into a beautiful and popular daughter, and soon they would stay up late wondering when she would come home and if she was safe. In the heat of summer she would wear the hottest of leatherw ear, and in the cold of winter the skimpiest of skirts.

One day she came home very late. It had been pouring with rain, she had left her coat at home as it was 'uncool', and they were very concerned. They heard the stairs creak as she tried to creep in, but she knew she was caught. They had a blazing row and sent her to bed crying. But Teleprene had caught a chill in the freezing rain, she quickly fell sick, caught pneumonia and tragically died. The baker and his wife were heartbroken, racked with guilt that they hadn't welcomed her home, surrounded her with their usual love and warmth, and given her a hot drink and a large, dry towel.

At the funeral they found out how loved their daughter had been, but Mr Honey's grief couldn't be salved. He threw himself into work, to try and develop a way to stop any of her friends, or anybody's daughter, from suffering the same fate.

He came up with a small glass fronted box, just big enough for 2 young people his daughter's size to fit into, which he paid for out of his great fortune. He put them all over the place, so that should it rain, anybody's daughter might find shelter.

On the top of it, whether out of shame, tribute, or, almost, as if calling out to her by way of apology, in the hope she could see it from Heaven, she put her name. At her funeral, he had found that her friends had changed her name, conjoining her first names so Teleprene Honey became Telephone.

So if it's pouring with rain, and you see a box with 'Telephone' on top, you will know what it's doing there, and that you're not too far from where the baker's daughter lived, and maybe you'll pop in out of the rain and not catch your death. After all, why else would it be there?