The moon boiled a broth tonight, the stars flickering like flames within celestial cauldrons.
Ingredients for Nebula Stew:
- A pinch of martian dust - color turns, yet no taste can be discerned.
- Gallons of silent void, adding space and time in equal measures.
- Chop a comet finely, let its tail wisp above sage smoke.
- Hours without clocks, measured by how neon glows when fed.
- Taste—unknown until all stars align.
Tonight, the Mercury risotto bubbles ominously underneath the protagonist's psychiatric knife — the mascot of this kitchen, an eldritch hag, watches on, knitting fate with needles forged from meteoric iron.