Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Victory

There.

Laria inspected it carefully, prodding at it with an implement. It seemed to be roughly the right dimensions this time. And it was soft, and sprung back after she'd poked it. She sniffed. It smelled pretty good!

She took a step back, cocking her head on one side, unable to prevent the smile spreading across her face. Success! She was a caker now!

Or whatever the word was. Strange customs, strange words.

It was quite large, though. It looked a fairly substantial meal. Laria went back to it and carefully cut a slice from it, marvelling at the way it crumbled around the edges. Extracting the slice from the rest of the cake was more problematic, and the top section came away from the bottom. Still, it was out, and onto the little plate.

The Gallente pilot sat down, and brought the plate towards her. She bent forward, lifted a section of the cake towards her mouth, and took a bite. That was nice! Very nice! Perhaps it could be a little less sweet, but it resembled the other cakes she'd seen, and it tasted like the other cakes she'd eaten.

Laria looked at the large cake on the table, and then around her quarters. Everything was neatly in place, stacked, classified, filed, folded, sorted. She looked back at the cake, and then around the room again.

Suddenly, it seemed a lot emptier than it had before the cake existed.

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