Martha has done this a million times before. Flour, water, whisk. Eggs, butter, whisk again. Martha Slipped into a familiar tradition, one that was almost second nature to her at this point.
Set the oven, put them in and wait till her flakey biscuits were baked to perfection. Martha was hoping she’d have everything done by 9. She had a busy day tomorrow. It was the first day of classes at her new job. Lenox Heights Pre-School for the gifted and Talented. It sure was a mouthful but Martha could not care less. She had moved out to Utah from New York because this was the opportunity of a life time. No way she was going to let a name that didn’t exactly roll off the tongue stop her. Not a chance!
Soon the kitchen began to fill with that familiar smell. Her grandmother had passed this recipe down, just as her grandmother before had passed it to her, and as she hoped to eventually pass to her granddaughter.
Another few seconds passed and Martha began to get lost in her thoughts.
“What will my students call me? Maybe they’ll call me Ms. Garner.” She thought. Not even a few seconds after that thought another one sprung into her mind. “Maybe I should have them call me Ms. Martha”
Martha began to get nervous that the first sentence her students would hear would not be a sentence at all, but her stumbling over her words. Then she realized that she was teaching preschoolers and decided it would probably be best to not worry about it.
Martha then sat down at the TV and turned on the news. She had about 10 minutes before the biscuits would be ready so she decided this would be the prefect time to catch some news.
“And tonight, it is reported that another person has been killed outside of Salt Lake City. We have no suspects but we know that the Killer seems to be going after people in that area. Please be cautious and remember to lock your doors.”
“Well now I regret turning on the news!” Martha thought.
*Knock Knock Knock*
“Who could that be? I’m not expecting anyone this late.”
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*