It was an early morning in late September, and Bençois was already dressed and pulling open the garage door. His combine sat here, waiting all summer to harvest Bençois' baguettes. Bençois climbed in, started the engine and drove out to begin harvesting his twenty acres of baguettes. He was well known in town, and most of the residents looked forward to October simply because it meant Bençois would be selling his warm, freshly harvested baguettes; they were the best in the region.
When he finished traversing his land, he brought the haul back to rest; they were still hot. The following week -- the first week of October -- he'd package them up and bring them into town to sell. In the meantime, he spent his time reflecting on the summer and cleaning his equipment. This was a well-earned week of rest, and he always enjoyed the respite.
The following week, after the baguettes had cooled to a steamy warm, Bençois packaged them all up, loaded them in the truck, and brought them into town. The townspeople all cheered for him as he arrived, and they all rushed up to the truck when he parked. After he managed to subdue the crowd, he opened up the truck, and began the exchanges. After thirty minutes he was sold out. He closed up the truck, drove back to the farm, and began planning for next season before he went to bed. He was fortunate to have this land. Farming baguettes was hard work, but seeing the joy they brought to the townspeople made it all worthwhile.
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