It breathed.
At this point in the story, I couldn't help chuckling. What a hilarious and strange morning for Myra! 😄 I'm thinking her mimosa was spiked with something or maybe she had one too many. Or was Edith messing with her? And after everything she went through, she simply throws the dough and rolling pin in the trash and goes for for the ready-made biscuits. Wow, I can't blame her though.
This was an enjoyable read. I like how the story slowly moved from creepy to downright surreal and kind of funny. Also, the imagery of the dough tasting like "forgotten winters and thunderstorms" was a lovely touch.
A living, breathing dough! I'll keep this story in mind the next time I bake and hope my dough doesn't turn into something like that! 😄 Beautifully written as always. 🌹
