It started as a normal day, with Joan feeding the sourdough starter.

Fifty grams of flour. Fifty grams of water. Stir them together, then add the mixture to the starter.

The usual.

At least, it was until she carried the bowl of “food” toward the jar.

The dough suddenly began climbing the side of the glass.

Joan froze.

It reached the rim, pulled itself over the edge, and dropped into the bowl, eagerly mixing itself with the fresh paste waiting for it. A moment later, it leaped neatly back into its jar.

Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, letters slowly appeared on the inside of the glass.

Thanks

“Mooom!” Joan yelled.

Her mom hurried into the kitchen.

“Yes?” she asked, striding toward her.

“The sourdough just moved!”

Her mom raised an eyebrow.

“It climbed out of the jar, mixed in its food by itself, and then…” Joan pointed excitedly. “Look! It even left a message!”

Her mom stepped over to the jar.

“I don’t see any message,” she said after a moment.

Joan peered over her shoulder.

The glass was spotless.

“It was right there,” Joan whispered. “It must have erased it.”