Date: The 2nd Day of Fall, 513 AV
Location: Cecily's Pantry, Fire Island
It was winding down to be a beautiful evening on the secluded Fire Island. It was peaceful and quiet, all the hustle and bustle of Kenash centered around the other quarters. The sun was setting over the horizon, rays of light glittering over calm waters. It was about twenty chimes before it would take it's daily rest and the moon came out to play. But by no means did that suggest things were shutting down. For some places, the fun was just starting to arrive. Cecily looked out the window to see young girls skittering down the lane, laughing and gossiping about who knows what. Shop lights across the bridge began to illuminate the twilight sky. A soft breeze scattered and circled orange and yellow leaves against the dark cobble. It was early into the season of Fall, but already things were changing color and wilting from their sources.
Cecily stood in her kitchen at her shop. Her soft hands were trying to knead out the stubborn dough that wheat sometimes produced. It was tough and moist, perfect for toasting and topping with strawberry jam. Her hair was tied out of her face, but wisps still managed to escape from her plait as she worked for a long while, stretching and molding the dough between her fingers. Her slave, Linda, was meanwhile cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, washing dishes and preparing the shop for the next day. She also worked meticulously, knowing that Cecily would scold her ear off if she didn't.
It was a strange thing, watching the two work together in a tiny space. Linda had been working with Cecily for years now, and they both knew the ins and outs of each other's working styles. They flowed like water, moving throughout the kitchen in perfect harmony, never crashing into each other and only muttering the quickest of words. They were both eager to get home after a long day working. This time of day Cecily didn't have many customers, but the shop was still open so she kept an eye out for visitors.
Cecily took a break from her kneading to take out from the oven sweet bread ready for the next day. It's rich scent filled the entire shop and outside the store as well. A passerby would be able to smell it from even a few paces away from the location. She took her protective mittens off and wiped her hands on the apron that draped on her waist. Rubbing her hair back and sighing, she leaned against a counter.
"Almost done?" she asked the slave girl, still scrubbing at a pan.
"Yes, Mistress. I will be finished within a couple of chimes." she answered back, not looking at Cecily but focused on the task at hand. Cecily nodded in approval.
"I'll start shutting down, then. Meet me in the front after you've stored the dough." she said, making her way out the door.
She stepped into the main room, taking stock of some items to make sure her profits lined up correctly. The showcases of pies, cakes, and everything else were stripped bare, besides the canned fruit that lined the walls. Baked goods were all prepared the day before, and cooked in the morning. Cecily stood, pen and quill in her hand, occasionally looking down to scribble upon the paper, and then back upwards to begin counting once more.
Location: Cecily's Pantry, Fire Island
It was winding down to be a beautiful evening on the secluded Fire Island. It was peaceful and quiet, all the hustle and bustle of Kenash centered around the other quarters. The sun was setting over the horizon, rays of light glittering over calm waters. It was about twenty chimes before it would take it's daily rest and the moon came out to play. But by no means did that suggest things were shutting down. For some places, the fun was just starting to arrive. Cecily looked out the window to see young girls skittering down the lane, laughing and gossiping about who knows what. Shop lights across the bridge began to illuminate the twilight sky. A soft breeze scattered and circled orange and yellow leaves against the dark cobble. It was early into the season of Fall, but already things were changing color and wilting from their sources.
Cecily stood in her kitchen at her shop. Her soft hands were trying to knead out the stubborn dough that wheat sometimes produced. It was tough and moist, perfect for toasting and topping with strawberry jam. Her hair was tied out of her face, but wisps still managed to escape from her plait as she worked for a long while, stretching and molding the dough between her fingers. Her slave, Linda, was meanwhile cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, washing dishes and preparing the shop for the next day. She also worked meticulously, knowing that Cecily would scold her ear off if she didn't.
It was a strange thing, watching the two work together in a tiny space. Linda had been working with Cecily for years now, and they both knew the ins and outs of each other's working styles. They flowed like water, moving throughout the kitchen in perfect harmony, never crashing into each other and only muttering the quickest of words. They were both eager to get home after a long day working. This time of day Cecily didn't have many customers, but the shop was still open so she kept an eye out for visitors.
Cecily took a break from her kneading to take out from the oven sweet bread ready for the next day. It's rich scent filled the entire shop and outside the store as well. A passerby would be able to smell it from even a few paces away from the location. She took her protective mittens off and wiped her hands on the apron that draped on her waist. Rubbing her hair back and sighing, she leaned against a counter.
"Almost done?" she asked the slave girl, still scrubbing at a pan.
"Yes, Mistress. I will be finished within a couple of chimes." she answered back, not looking at Cecily but focused on the task at hand. Cecily nodded in approval.
"I'll start shutting down, then. Meet me in the front after you've stored the dough." she said, making her way out the door.
She stepped into the main room, taking stock of some items to make sure her profits lined up correctly. The showcases of pies, cakes, and everything else were stripped bare, besides the canned fruit that lined the walls. Baked goods were all prepared the day before, and cooked in the morning. Cecily stood, pen and quill in her hand, occasionally looking down to scribble upon the paper, and then back upwards to begin counting once more.
