That was something. That was good.
it may look horrible but it smells so sweet.
i saw flour was added, anyway - but not professionally. looked haphazard to me, but i'm no chef. you can see it's clumpy though. got the color of wet tissue you left in your pockets for months, plus the consistency of the jelly you get with fish eggs.
didn't realize it was so dangerous until i went to do a taste test. the chef put his hand on my chest as i was about to dip the spoon in. then he took it and plunged it to the base of the pan. had to double take when he pulled out was left. only the stem.
i figure he was counting on my surprise. he took the stick and shoved it down my throat, splintered end first. it hurt like hell, scratching all the parts i don't know the names of. a piece must've dislodged and stuck in one side for a while but the acid from whatever he was cooking soon freed it. or maybe dissolved it.
all of this must've gone on for thirty seconds or so before he took the splint out of my mouth. i guess i hadn't realized how much i'd been flailing till i saw the color of my arms. i felt better now.
he gestured towards the pan and i took a step forward. i dunno why, but it felt right. i gripped the edges of the pot and shoved my head into the boiling mixture. it was the first time i felt at peace.
That was something. That was good.
thanks :)
the format was partially inspired by some of your stuff that i've read in the past!