Jack smelled promise in the beans before he traded them for his cow. He imagined a palette of flavors, a cassoulet fit for the king.
His mother fumed. “We need money now.” She tossed the beans into the Earth’s maw.
Overnight a beanstalk grew. It led straight to the giant’s garden where the giantess was weeding. She caught him red-handed stealing beans. “No you don’t.”
“I only want to taste them.”
“Cook them well and you’re hired. Poorly and you’re dinner.”
Hours later, the ground shook. “Fee, fie, foe… what is that delicious aroma, Wife?” And the giant was satisfied.
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 