93. Discomfited.

He thrust them into the baking oven and snapped the door shut. He was done. It was over.
He was supposed to feel happy. He was supposed to feel relieved.
But no.
He felt discomfited, very discomfited.

"Aw man, I should've spent more time kneading the dough."
He spent about 1-2 hours last night and a bit this morning kneading, but the texture and mix of the final pre-baked crust evidenced subpar preparations.

It was too late. The fire was going, and the pies were already in.

"Hope they don't turn out too bad."

He looked at his hands,
Stared at the oven;
Then, back at his hands.

He just wanted to cover his face and cry.