Not My Bakery! (Soft c)
Practice Words
Words where the letter 'c' makes the soft /s/ sound, typically before e, i, or y.
Tom the Baker made the best pumpkin pies in all of Canville. At least, that's what Tom said. Every single day. He baked them fresh each morning in his little bakery, golden and steaming, with bread so warm it fogged up the windows. People came from streets away just to sniff the air. And Tom stood in the doorway, grinning wide, certain he had everything he ever wanted. Because he did.
Now, Canville had a system. Jill mined the iron. The Mage used pumpkins and iron to build golems. Big clanking guards who stomped around the village all night, keeping everyone safe from creepers and other nasty things. It worked. Until one morning, Tom, Jill, and the Mage stepped outside and noticed every single golem smashed to pieces on the ground. "Oh no," whispered Jill. "Oh no," said the Mage, louder. The face Tom pulled said it all. "Oh no no no no no," he groaned. Because Tom was already thinking about his bakery.
The Mage built new golems right away. But Tom could not stop pacing. "We have torches all around the village," he said to Dr Can Do that night, peering out into the darkness. "So how are creepers getting in?" Dr Can Do folded his arms. "They spawn in the dark places further out, where no torch can reach. But don't worry, Tom. The golems will handle it." Tom turned away, but the worry on his face was plain to see.
That night, Tom lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Creepers were sneaky. They didn't growl. They didn't groan. They didn't even have the decency to stomp around like zombies. They just crept closer and closer in silence. And then... BOOM. Tom pulled the blanket up to his chin. His face was white with worry. "Not my bakery," he whispered. "Please, not my bakery." He was almost certain something terrible was about to happen.
KABOOM! The blast shook every window in Canville. Tom raced out of bed, sprinted down the path, and skidded to a stop. His bakery. His nice, wonderful, pumpkin-pie-smelling bakery was a wall of flames, lighting up the night sky like a terrible orange sunrise. 'That's it!' Tom yelled, his face red as a redstone torch. 'If you lot can't stop a few creepers, I'll pack my pies and find someplace safer to live!'
Jill placed her hand on Tom's shoulder. "Don't leave. We need you. Well, we need your pies. Well... we need both." Tom stared at the pile of ash that used to be his oven. Dr Can Do rubbed his mustache. "What if we built a fence? A proper stone fence, right around the whole village. Nothing gets in. Nothing gets out. Except people, of course. We'd have a gate." "A big fence?" said Tom, narrowing his eyes. "The biggest," said Dr Can Do. Tom sniffed. "...Fine. But someone's helping me replace that bakery."
They started the very next day. Every single villager carried stone. Dr Can Do drew up the plans with precise measurements. The Mage used magic to lift the heaviest blocks into place. Brick by brick, the fence began to rise, circling Canville with thick, sturdy stone. Dr Can Do and the Mage stood back to admire the progress. The fence wasn't finished yet, but already it looked magnificent. 'Once it's done, let's see a creeper get through that!' the Mage said, tapping his staff on the ground, certain it would work.
Tom's new bakery was even nicer than the old one. Bigger ovens. More counter space. And Jill placed colourful flowers all around the entrance, because she said a bakery should smell like two excellent things at once. "People will come from every city in the land to eat here," Jill said. Tom pulled a perfect golden pumpkin pie from the oven and grinned. "And when they get here, not a single creeper in sight." He paused. "But if one does show up, I'm blaming you, Dr Can Do!"