The flour heart.

 

Patricia was about seven months pregnant. She'd never made a spinach pie before so off she went to mix all the ingredients and work the dough. Slow moves and padam padam on the background. The dough knew where this was going. The dough laughed and twisted on the kitchen surface. The dough giggled, splattered Pat with tiny bits of flour pride. When it became convinced that Pat was going to make something out of it no matter what, the dough gave up. So it let Pat go on with her work. With love.