Mom and I are at a fair or something and leaving. It's an old-time sort of thing, very ethnic, and we come past a pastry booth where they're selling things like kolaches, but they're not flat, they're like little pastry tulips, most of them, and have a lot of different fillings, savoury or sweet, and have a different name [which I've forgotten]. All these women are behind the counters, dressed in their old-country costumes and talking loudly in their old-country accents. I didn't think Mom would want to stop at all, but she does, and I didn't think she'd want the sweet ones, but she does, and we make our way to the right-hand counter. The booth is all wood, with a rooflet and darkish. The place is open, and make L-shape with an extra corner: The meat and vegetable fillings on the left and the fruit fillings on the right. We go over to the right and have a look, then turn to the center where the actual counter is [in the diagram above, the upper right corner], and talk to the blonde woman there. She has a sharp voice, all business. I look at the fruit fillings; I can see blueberries, all plump and round. Back left I can see the nice little tulip-shapes and some kind of meat fillings.