It did not have a very accurate recollection of the initial part of its creation. This was probably a good thing because the process had involved being pushed about rather forcefully by some metal hooks. Rumours had it that some sort of violently orange primordial slime with a distinctive taste of butternut squash had played a role, as well as a small population of quite primitive unicellular beings, as appears to be customary in any act of creation. In fact, the first things it distantly remembered were a rather pleasant tickling sensation as it was dusted with flour, and the warm squashiness of being kneaded thoroughly by apt hands. When it awoke from what must have been a long sleep, it discovered that it had doubled in volume. It felt huge, it felt lighter and at the same time more vigorous, and also considerably less stodgy than when it had gone to sleep: this was freedom, this was big, this was getting fun! In its ecstasy it took a while to realise that it was getting pretty hot, too. Now was this something to worry about? It shifted uneasily on its baking parchment. ‘Actually, this is rather pleasant’ it thought as waves of heat spilled down its back, and it gave a shudder of delight as its crust burst open. After a while, the luscious warmth subsided, and it was born to the world, feeling quite mature enough to face the fresh and chilly air of morning.
And there it sat, rather pleased with its new golden complexion, happily oozing a scent that it knew was one of the most soothing and pleasant ones in the world.
Short Short Stories 