Muffins (this one kinda sucks)

The lackadaisical security guard bid me no harm with a mere nod as I slid through the door on this cold Monday night. I was missing the colts game but work needed to be done. My flip flops bounced off the floor and slapped the face of my heels as I made the left down workman’s row (its not really called that but I like to). Three familiar faces all bright and new lined the avenue to the glow board that I needed for tracing. Some hellos, some handshakes but business as usual. The assignment was simple yet it was thought provoking. Find alluring forms of typography and traces their skin. I took an easy road but soon grew bored. The serifs, the leading letter body build, the swoop of a “J” all combined to make my wrist a little less interested and my mind a little more distant. I thought of muffins. I have no idea why, but the sweet soft caresses of its dough coupled with surprising nuggets of tangy fruit enticed and allured me. I was stuck molding ink into dances of language. Why is a muffin a morning snack? Dough and fruit taste great at all stages of the sun, but yet it remains an a.m. treat. Somebody needs to make a dinner muffin. One packed with beef, vegetables and other staples of a family meal, yet still having that humble and loveable shape. Starbucks could make a fortune, so could I. Taste meets practicality and muffins can finally know the wit of a steak knife. I don’t even know how to make bread.