Carrot Cake rinsed his mouth after he finished with brushing his teeth, and spit into the sink before wiping his face. He looked at his tired face in the mirror. It had been a long day, and he was carrying most of the weight with the bakery nowadays, but he didn’t mind at all. His wife was carrying her own weight, and then some.

He heard her call from their bedroom, and left his reflection to go see her. She was lying on the bed, leg raised, and beckoning him to her. The fresh sight of her baking his cakes in her oven made it all worth it. His tired face smiled.

Commission for Kassaz, who wrote the very short story to accompany it. This uses the pose from that old Aryanne piece by Patch, if you recognize it.