It was a cold misty morning. You bid your mother farewell before beginning your journey to Grandma's house.

Your red cloak drapes over your legs as you walk along the familiar path. Your eyes dart to the basket which you hold in your right hand, containing a delicious cherry pie inside.

It has been about an hour or two. You decided to rest on a tree stump. You set the basket on your lap.

Suddenly, a low raspy voice appears behind you, "May I take a bite, cherry pie?"