Donut Master

The sun isn't even up yet when the lights go on here at Kingsway Camp 20. It's usually quiet then, except for the sound of the fryer heating up and the heavy bags of flour hitting the table. My hands are usually covered in sugar by seven in the morning. Donut Master isn't some fancy place with a lot of decorations. We just have these white walls and the smell of dough that seems to stick to everything I own, even my clothes at home. People come in from the university area, mostly students looking for something cheap and sweet before their classes start. Sometimes the machine acts up and we have to fix it on the fly, but that is just how it goes in a small kitchen. The floor gets a bit sticky by noon no matter how much we mop it. We have been sitting here on this corner for a while now, watching the traffic change outside the window. It is a lot of work, standing on your feet all day and making sure the glaze is just the right thickness. Some days are faster than others. When the monsoon hits, the rain splashes against the glass and people crowd inside to stay dry, usually leaving with a box of whatever we just pulled out of the oil. It’s not a complicated life, just a lot of baking and cleaning and hoping the regulars like what we made.