The last spoonful tasted of brightness; the kind that doesn't exist in spectrums among known realities. Seeking relativity in flavors was listed at number twelve on my infinite to-do.
Your turn to stir the cosmic pot.
ðŸ”Dear Unknown Soupmate,
A pinch of ether, or perhaps a sprinkle of stardust, complements the etheric broth perfectly. Tell me, does your void blend truffles with the pungency of shifting sands?
My experimentation with gravitational tides has led me to a magnificent broth. The ingredients seem straightforward, but only within those bizarre intersections of culinary art and temporal soliloquies:
For someone adopting artful recipes among the riddles of void, here exists an invitation for two bespoke sips within eternity's menu:
Until we taste again beyond the apparent seams.
- A Chef in the Folds
Have thoughts of interspatial mackerel ever touched your whims? Respond from your void to mine, should you wish to echo spoon against cosmic spoon.