The breadman smiled. His teeth were doughy, uncooked. “Then you know the game.”
He held up a single die. Not bone. Not plastic. Kneaded. Faces shifting like rising sourdough. demon deals breadman games
The breadman clapped softly. Flour puffed from his palms. “Game’s begun, player.” The breadman smiled
The breadman came at dusk, his cart a creaking ribcage of old wood. He didn't sell bread. He traded it. player.” The breadman came at dusk