"A little revisit to a past, shall we make it into a recreation?"
Another mere mission-or so did it seem-wouldn't bring that tremendous of a change, would it? Dasom clicked her tongue as she read through the documents which were carelessly scattered...
Dasom stood infront of the small entrance of the bakery, the aroma of sweet delights and baked puffs assaulted her nostrils, the soothing feeling of warmth hovered her space bubble. Striding onto the rough carpet spread across the road, she let the little girl sprint through the wide wooden frame, "Aunt Susan, I got boba!" Small giggles erupted from within the bakery, a smile unknowingly occupied Dasom's lips.
Proceeding her footwork, she found herself in the midst of some delicious chaos. Dasom spotted a bakery staff helping out the customers to find the treat of their desire, a few of the staff were busy polishing down the interior of the bakery, ravishing, it stood out to be. Her eyes landed onto the gigantic curved glass frame, inside were some caged cakes and sweets, "it tastes so yum just like how I imagined!" Soya took a last sip of the boba whilst engaging herself with quite an adorable talk with Susan.
Susan was the owner of the bakery. She was indeed fifty-five years old woman, but Dasom remembered to never underestimate her, especially judging her by her age. Living her life all by herself after being an orphan at the age of nine, Susan had experienced it all. An array of troubles kept lining up in her life during those teenage years. Escaping an abusive husband at the age of twenty-eight, she worked twenty-four by seven to provide for her unborn child. Unfortunately, the future tainted her a cruel miscarriage.
"Dasom?" Susan's call awakened Dasom from her thoughts. She really needs to stop losing her way through her thoughts. She immediately stiffened up as if an alarm rang through her brain.
Fuck. The order.
"It has been two days since I have seen you," Susan gave her a look she knew quite well. A grave look traced her porcelain features, brows furrowed, in a rather hushed voice, she spoke, "another order, is it?" Dasom hummed a reply, "indeed, it is."
"What order is it?" Susan asked, again in a low voice. The disturbance from the interaction of customers and staff almost made her inaudible, "chocolate, the usual."
Susan smirked, "follow me, child," she walked off from the main counter, another staff soon occupying her spot to balance the tasks out. The said duo took a walk further away from the crowd, soon entering the 'only staff' section of the bakery.
Inside, the room was painted in the shades of white, metal culinary appliances were smeared across the smooth flooring, two wide-spread counter tops rested on two sides, sticking to the white walls. In the centre, laid another similar countertop holding onto rectangular trays of brownies and other pastries, ready to be sliced into perfection. The staff inside were mostly chefs, a few of them helping out with maintaining a hygienic atmosphere. Everyone was seemingly so dwelled up in their tasks and small talks that they failed to notice the duo walking in.
