Mira loved baking more than anything. She spent hours in her tiny kitchen, mixing, kneading, and frosting her worries away. But everything changed the day she whispered, "I wish you were real," to a batch of gingerbread cookies.

The dough twitched. Frosting eyes blinked. Then, one by one, they stood up.

At first, it was adorable. The cookies danced across the counter, bowing and waving. But then the cupcakes started singing. The eclairs marched like soldiers. And when the towering chocolate cake groaned and stretched its fondant limbs, Mira realized she had a problem.

"Uh… guys? Maybe calm down?" she said.

But the gingerbread leader, a tiny cookie with a candy cane sword, puffed out his chest. "We have been given life, Mistress Mira! And we demand freedom!"

The pastries cheered.

Mira groaned. "I just wanted dessert, not a dessert uprising."

The battle was swift. She dodged a flying macaron, deflected a caramel drizzle attack, and finally, with a well-aimed sprinkle shower, subdued the rebellion. One by one, the sweets collapsed into harmless, delicious piles.

She sighed, popping a cookie into her mouth.

Maybe next time, she’d watch what she wished for.