As the prison ship sailed out against the sky

I woke up around 9 this morning feeling industrious, so I made banana nut bread. But apparently banana bread wasn't enough for me, so I also experimented with lemon bars. Then I had some of the lemon goo left over, so for some reason I decided to soak it up with pieces of bread and throw those in the oven, too. I think that decision was influenced mostly by the fact that Mara wasn't home yet. If nobody else knows I've made something weird, I can just throw it away and it's like nothing ever happened. This doesn't work so well when there are witnesses, though (or if it's the middle of winter and your family will be home in five minutes and what was supposed to be rice krispies is instead a thick black glue quickly solidifying in the pot and it won't come out without a chisel and the ground's too frozen for you to run outside and bury it which for some reason was your first impulse and you're never going to live this one down oh god oh god). I guess that makes me feel kind of like a hitman for food.

"What happened to that cake?"

"What cake?"

"That one you were making?"

"I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ANY CAKE"

"I'm pretty sure I--"

"I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ANY CAKE IN THE GARBAGE"

"Oh, I see."

In any event, the creation cooperated so I didn't need to call in a hit on it. I think it would've worked out just a bit better, though, if I'd had any bread available to me but potato. Something about toasted lemon potato bread, I just don't even know.