short fiction · 2026-10-13

Flavor Prism II

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the dark kitchen, I bite a lemon— sharp yellow splits the void, a citrine blade. Sweetness of ripe mango pours amber light, pooling where no lamp dares to go. Salt on the tongue draws a thin gray line, like moonlight on stone, fleeting and cool. Bitterness of unsweetened cocoa blooms deep violet, a shadow that hums. Each flavor refracts, bending the black into spectrums only hunger can see. I chew the night, and it tastes of rain on tin, of burnt sugar, of green apples crushed underfoot. The darkness is not empty; it is a palate, waiting for the prism of taste to reveal its hidden hues.