Créme Brulée

For a brief time, one could clearly distinguish the stars in the utter blackness of space.

The whole sky erupted with the fury of a thousand suns. And then there was nothing. The tiny instrument pack lasted only a brief couple of milliseconds, barely enough to acknowledge the dozen detonations happened as planned.

With the now molten crust, the asteroid, once a cratered potato of planetary leftovers, would assume a more rounded shape. When cold, it would gain the solid surface required to anchor the VASIMIR propulsion device that would guide it safely through part of Earth's atmosphere, avoiding inhabited landmasses, shedding its excess speed in form of heat and entering a stable orbit, high enough not to decay for a couple thousand years, yet low enough for its materials to be useful for orbital construction.

It was late at night, I was hungry and all I could think was of patisserie.

This was the largest crème brûlée I ever made.