The pacing day herded, a redefining sunset: the unicorns had learned to the silence of the breaking fluorescent night, came the hunter, nocturnal in stealth, a reload from season’s apparel. The dish sounded familiar, though the recipes, gave no emotional divide to there filament, the strengthen to apprehend the fabled culminating, warp of unicorn husk, the savor to dish those formidable in reality-recipes. The producers show had given the fluorescent filament a contestable, tenuous strength to their show; them to be prized dishes of appeal to the in house counter cook, a palatable placement through to project in ratings, the galleries tally saw, a contestable, entrant make each dish, a increasingly amount of difficulty. Queuing to a restless audience my, hunted ingredients had to glow, with apparel to then, a inquisitive reality of rating my dished-up spectator, symmetrical gathering of the crowding, cookie sized bits of unicorn audience.

2019 Adam Blewett ©