Writing Prompt: She made each chocolate swirl perfect.

Morning all. This week is going to be a little more off balance than I planned. I am going to try my best to stay on schedule, but there may be a few upsets. Last Tuesday my babydoll had dental surgery. He tested negative on the tests before the surgery and a few days after he tested positive. He has been miserable all weekend but he has not had a fever for the past 24 hours and is starting to feel better. Thus far I am negative and just have a summer cold mixed with allergies. which isn’t that unusual for me at this time of year, the allergies run me down and then the summer cold sneaks in. Hopefully it will stay that way and not tip into anything else, but even with just the cold sleep seems a better option than most things so my schedule may be tilted this week. Just a heads up in case I drop out of sight for a few days. So with that not so cheery Monday morning announcement, let’s press on. Are you ready for the morning prompt? Good then let’s go.

I kind of like this one. I may need to sit down and think about why she is making these deserts, what the banquet is, but I am more interested in her relationship with the others. It could be fun to explore.

Monday, August 1st: She made each chocolate swirl perfect.

She made each chocolate swirl perfect.  There were three hundred individually sized cakes needed for the banquet and each had to be not only spectacular, but spectacularly identical to all of the others.  None of the swirl could be off, none of the icing thicker than any other cake.  While they wanted individually produced cakes, they wanted them all factory standard. 

The thought amused her, when she had time to be amused.  For now there was just the intense focus.  A lot was riding on this.  She kept the pressure on the piping bag even and regulated the pressure of the chocolate buttercream’s exit from the bag.  With each five piped, she slid a small step sideways, first her right foot, then her left.  It was less than a full step, maybe a half one at best.  Just enough to line her up with the center of the five next cakes.  There she could ice five without any noticeable tilt to the swirls.  If she tried to do more without moving then they would not be identical.  The tilt of the bag would be off, her hand’s pressure on the bag would fluctuate and the identical look would be spoiled.

Slowly she worked her way down the row until each had their final swirls.  When she reached the end of the line, her fingers were cramped from being in one position so long. But it had been worth it.  She looked back over all of the cakes and saw that they were perfection.

‘Only one thing left to do,” she reminded herself.  She stepped back away from the cakes and set the bag down on an unused work table.  She took a moment to wiggle her fingers, hoping to loosen them up a moment.  She didn’t take as long as they wanted though, eager to finish her task.  She picked up a sieve, it was in a bowl and already filled with powdered edible gold dust.

She lifted it and before she could take too much time to think about it, she turned and walked in a slow steady line, moving back the way she came with the icing bag.  Rhythmically she passed, timing her taps to the sieve and dropping a powdered cloud of gold dust on top of the iced cakes as she moved.  Shen she reached the end of the line she looked back.  Satisfied with the cakes appearance, she lifted the sieve away from the cakes, walked back and placed the sieve in the bowl so any more fallen powder would not be lost. 

The cakes were finally finished.  She wanted to sigh, but know that even though her task was complete, it wouldn’t make any difference until they were checked and trundled off to their final destination.

As if on cue, the doors swung open and a stern faced Frazier stepped into the room.  He looked over the table, not bothering to spare her a glance.  She held her breath as his eyes took in the sight.  Without a word, he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers.  Three of his most trusted minions flowed past him into the workspace.  Needing no further instruction, they moved to pick up the trays of plates.

They deftly lifted them, and proceeded with the first of them out of her domain.  Another set came in and took three more trays.  Frazier’s minions came and went until all of the trays and cakes were gone.  When the last of them went out through the door, Frazier deigned to look at her. 

“Clean up and clock out,” he said.  She nodded but he was already turning away and pushing through the doors.  She let out a sigh of relief.  He task was complete.

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