“This will not do!”

Rosie dipped her chin in acquiescence, but her hands twitched atop the rolling pin. Master Chef, as they were told to call him, was no ‘Master’ of hers, not to mention a mediocre chef and worse instructor.

You need to pass this course, she breathed compliance into her arms. “P&D” (“Pastries & Desserts” in the syllabus, “Posh & Dumb” among students) was mandatory. As was the instructor, whose Pops padded the Culinary College’s coffers.

“You will keep to the circles,” he decreed before moving to the next student.

Not to any circles you’re in, Rosie vowed.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields