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I start kneading again, harder than before, trying to capture it I want to find that content of si in frustration as ;worse

How dare they wipe ood lawyer

I was a good fucking lawyer

“Would you like a rest?” Iris comes over and touches my shoulder “It’s hard hen you’re not used to it”

“What’s the point?” My words shoot out before I can stop the bread You one”

I break off abruptly, not quite knohat’s come over me I don’t feel totally on top of myself

Iris gives me a careful look

“You could say the saently “Or life itself”

“Exactly” I rub my forehead with my apron “Exactly”

I don’t knohat I’ht with Iris? I must calm down

“I think that’s enough kneading,” she says, taking the dough fro it into a round shape

“Nohat?” I say, trying to speak more normally “Shall I put it in the oven?”

“Not yet” Iris places the dough back in the bowl and puts it on top of the stove “Noait”

“Wait?” I stare at her “What do you mean, wait?”

“We wait” She pops a tea towel over the bowl “Half an hour should do it I’ll make a cup of tea”

“But … what are aiting for?”

“For the yeast to rise and work its h” She s”

I look at the bowl, trying to thinkI can’t feel calm or serene My body is wound up too far; every nerve is hopping with tension I used to be in control of my time to the minute To the second And now I’m supposed to wait for yeast? I’us?