Lake Lewisia #486

[scrubjayspeaks]

“A starter, you say,” Leslie said with their nose dipped low over the ceramic jar and its frothy contents. The woman who had brought it round the back door nodded with worrying enthusiasm even as the pseudo-sourdough belched out a yeasty burp tinged unexpectedly with purple. They weren’t in the habit of taking foodstuffs from strangers, but–well, bread baking was an old art and true innovation required a sense of adventure.

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LL#486