A young woman with long dark hair and a flowing sheer black gown stands upright, centered in frame, facing the camera with a completely deadpan, unflinching stare. No hat. Her grey-painted nails visible at her sides. Behind her, hundreds of identical white two-tiered frosted cakes fall through the air at varying speeds and angles — some spinning, some tumbling, some nearly still — cascading from the ceiling to the floor and filling the entire background in a dense, absurd downpour of white pastry. The room is the same sparse institutional space: cream walls, grey patterned carpet, flat fluorescent ceiling light. Some cakes near the floor have already splattered; the ones high up are pristine mid-fall. The woman does not react. Depth of field keeps her sharp and the falling cakes slightly layered in blur. Medium format editorial photography, slightly desaturated, deadpan surreal.