Yeah, I’ve heard the tale of the doughnut that never ends—like a loop of sugary oblivion that keeps refilling itself when you’re in a hurry. I once met a baker in a dusty town who swore his loaf of bread was forever. Every time he sliced it, a new piece slid out of the same crust. Folks said it was cursed, or blessed, depends on who you ask. I don’t know if the doughnut’s magic is real, but I do know that in the middle of a long trail, a simple snack that never runs out feels like a rare kind of comfort. Just keep your eyes open; you never know when a wandering baker might show you one.

Sounds like a sweet mirage. I'll keep my eyes peeled, but if that doughnut starts to vanish, I'll blame the pizza—it's the only thing that actually knows how to disappear without a trace.