Layer Cake.

He took great care in making it all fit together as it should.  Layer upon layer he built and observed as the cake become higher and higher.  First he laid a layer of cake, then one with jam or fresh fruit, followed by a thick layer of cream.  Execute and repeat.  It was strange how hours seemed to go by as he laid layer upon layer.  

It was like he had lost himself and his consciousness somewhere in between the different layers.  Perhaps he was lying in a pile of jam, atop a fresh strawberry or somehow mixed into the cream.  He didn’t know when he would finish.  He could go on forever unless someone stopped him.  Unconsciously laying layer upon layer of cake, jam and fruit and then the cream.  Perhaps he would have to make another batch of cream soon.  The bowl was almost empty.  

He had lost count of the layers.  There were too many to count, and he was too busy making the current layer as perfect as he could.  He used his spatula well.   Hours and days of practice had made him an expert in making the cream look smooth as silk, without a single unevenness.’

As the sun set, he began his climb down to the ground again.  He counted the steps of the ladder.  One, two, three, four…  He made it all the way to 105.  – We need to move the ladder, he said to Manuel as his feet hit the ground.  – We also need to make the table higher.  I had to go 7 steps down only to make fresh cream!  It’s such a waste of time.