It was very late at night and nothing stirred in the pristine corridors of the supermarket. It was that special time of night when the store slept between the automatic trudge of the shelf stackers and the hustle and bustle of the shoppers. But down Aisle 3 there was a rustling…something was stirring.
On the top shelf of the biscuit aisle a small brown arm appeared pushing its way through the cellophane wrapper, then a second arm. Slowly and hesitantly a head appeared. It was flat and brown and had white icing hair, two raisins for eyes, a piece of peel for its nose and a small blob of red icing for its mouth. It was a gingerbread man.
Gginger, as his packet buddies called him, was looking for adventure. He didn’t want to stay coped up in the cellophane house. He wanted to know what was happening in the big wide world outside. Gginger had spent days listening to the voices of shoppers gossiping about their neighbours, children begging and pleading with their parents to let them have the expensive chocolate biscuits instead of healthy fruit slices or muesli snacks. He knew, just knew there was more to life than lying with his packet buddies staring upwards through the cellophane wrapping. He wanted freedom, adventure, excitement!
Gginger pulled himself out of the packaging and steadied himself against the other packets. It was a very very long way down. He felt very giddy. Was this a mistake? Should he have stayed with his friends? No, this wasn’t a mistake…Gginger felt alive although frightened, his little sugar heart beat faster and faster, the syrup in his throat had dried up. He swallowed, took a deep breath. This was it, time to work out a way down off the shelf and to freedom….