Raspberry swirl tart
I drove to work as normal, not tainted for a second by the predictable rain. I wasn’t late but I was into the habit of checking my stereo clock every few minutes, I guess I was nervous. Yeah,
thinking about it now I was definitely nervous. It was a cross between feeling sick and feeling excited, the buzz making me smile lending no comfort to my shaking hands.
How many times I had done this and still it held its effect… and so I past the same many rows of houses, the same shops where a line fought at the bus stop …the same roundabouts… slowed down for
that speed camera that nearly caught me a few days ago… and at last into the car park.
It was always busy at this time of day and I had to park under the gum trees that always left the roof of my car sticky, which I wouldn’t let frustrate me till later. I made sure my CD’s where
neatly hid in the glove compartment and took a few deep breaths before stepping out and toward the entrance.
I said hello to a few familiar faces as I past the other buildings and then found myself at the main entrance. I buzzed the buzzer. I pulled the door open. Walked up the steps like I do everyday
whistle trying to calm my hands against the stair well. I heard voices before opening the door at the top; it was noisy, there must be a lot on shift tonight! I took one last deep breath before
walking in my lips felt tout as I tried to hide my smile. I stepped straight like I was on a mission and there she was…
My Raspberry swirl tart, jam and cream still perfectlymade andstill sat on top of the fridge where I’d left it last night! I smiled; nobody ate it!
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