Flash Lit February 2020 #1 – Just the Right Touch

“As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it (which was to twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keep tight hold of its right ear and left foot, so as to prevent its undoing itself) she carried it out into the open air.” Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 6

The pretzels weren’t cooperating.  In theory, they were inanimate objects, not even baked yet, ropes of dough lying inert on the flour-strewn counter.  Still, they seemed to be absorbing a sort of snake-like consciousness from their tapering shape.  Coils, they condescended to do.  They would even, ouroboros-like, make rings.  What they would not do, no matter how Dina tried, was cross over themselves like folded arms.

The rest of the class had already moved on to brushing their pretzels with egg wash and sprinkling on the salt crystals shaped like tiny dice as she spattered her dough with tears.

Clay, the cooking teacher, hovered at her left shoulder.  He held out a tissue and Dina took it, noticing again the little flying pig tattooed on his wrist.  She wiped her eyes and her nose, then took the squirt of hand sanitizer he offered.

“This is impossible,” she declared.

“I think you can do it,” he said.  “And so does my pig.”

Clay was one of those adults who sometimes said things that could have been serious or could have been silly.  Dina was never sure, but she saw that he was smiling.  Even the pig tattoo had a tiny blue smile.

“Let’s do it together,” he said.

Dina nodded, so he grasped one end of the recalcitrant snake and looped it firmly over itself.  She held her breath as she twisted her end over and pressed it down with her thumb.

“Just right,” he said, and handed her the inch-wide paintbrush and the purple plastic dish of scrambled egg.