One night, the town shook as if from an earthquake. In the morning, the townsfolk found that a new cave opening had appeared in the hillside, a pile of rock and earth near the entrance. A monstrous ogre walked out, towering above the humans. Some remembered seeing it many years before.
“Why have you come here?” asked the mayor, crossing her arms to keep her composure.
“I need a new home. Can I stay here?” the deep, booming voice was incongruent with the pleading question.
The local blacksmith noticed glittering in the debris outside the cave. There was ore, perhaps even gold. He whispered in the mayor’s ear.
“Perhaps we can trade. Can you bring out more of this rock to pay for your stay?” the mayor asked.
“I can. But tell me, does the baker who makes those delicious, tiny éclairs still live here?”
“I do,” the old baker piped up from the crowd.
“I think we have a deal,” smiled the mayor.
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