Dough

        Jemima sat on a rickety stool in her family’s undersized home in Delhi, India.  The sticky dough that she was rolling, made a squelching sound as she smashed it under her calloused hand.  
It was mid-day, and yet shockingly, no monkeys had visited the decrepit house.  Jemima was grateful for that.  Her parents were working in the rock quarries today with her older brother and she didn’t want to be alone if a famished monkey came into the house.  She’d heard terrible tales of the greedy little demons sneaking into homes while children were all alone… and the unfortunate children were never seen again.  Jemima shuddered at the horrid thought.
As she placed the dough in the oven to bake, a high-pitched screech sounded from the doorway.  She spun around to face… a monkey.  It screeched again and lurched forward into the house.  Jemima froze in panic.  The delicious aroma of fresh baked bread was wafting from the oven and she knew it wouldn’t be long before the furry creature smelled it.  
The primate squealed in delight when it spotted the oven and lifted its nose to better scent the food.  It shrieked again and steadily lumbered toward Jemima, who courageously shifted her legs to block the oven entrance.  The monkey stopped dead in its tracks.  A ferocious snarl formed on its lips.  It jumped onto her shoulder, slobber dripping down its jaws.  
Jemima rapidly grasped her father’s bamboo walking stick.  It was weighty, but she managed to bring it down on the monkey’s tail.  The little devil screeched bloody murder, turned tail and fled the scene.  Jemima collapsed on the dusty floor.
A low beeping sounded from the oven, signaling that the much anticipated bread had baked.  Jemima rose shakily to her feet, retrieved the fresh bread and placed it on the table.  As she silently sliced it, she thanked God for keeping her in his care and, of course, for the delicious bread she was about to delight in.