Well, there you have it and it is warm and moist and seems to pulse with a life of its own under your touching fingertips. Sometimes it does seems as though you have found the cake of your dreams, here, in this imperfect world. A world that so often seems to take some kind of delight in conspiring against you and all your simple hopes and dreams of a life made… somehow… better than this. A world that so often seems cruel, heartless and vindictive… but then turns around and gives you a cake such as this, cannot be all bad.
There are wonders aplenty in this universe, and even upon this poor benighted earth, but this… here… now… is a cake that surpasses all of that. It is a cake that goes beyond your dreams of all that would or could be possible in this world, A Panglossian cake, a Platonic cake. A cake that would make Helen of Troy seem a mere dockyard trollop in comparison, that makes the great symphonies seem like poor ditties scratched out on a broken, out of tune violin, the great paintings the mere daubs of a five-year old and the great literatures of the world seem more like mere shopping lists in comparison.
It is the very cake of the gods themselves.
However, though, I think it could have done with just a little bit more strawberry jam in the middle.
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