Why Rainbows Fade

Jason ran his hand over the thrumming casing, savouring the hot, oily sensation.
“I know you’re hungry, my love,” he murmured to the machine. “But soon, very soon.”
At last the van returned, screeching across the factory floor to a jerky stop.
“This is a rough one, boss,” Sidney gasped, leaning from the window. “Broke three hooks pulling it down. Dunno how long the van will hold.”
“Then get a move on!”
Jason snapped up a pair of enormous pinchers and stomped to the back of the van, flinging open the doors.
The rainbow sprang forward at the first hint of light, crashing into Jason. Its brightness stung, but even blind he could dodge the seven whips of colour long enough to crunch the pinchers about its wafer-flesh. At arm’s length, it was easy to wrestle it into his machine’s gaping hopper. Sidney slammed the controls and the machine began its work, gnashing and churning.
A few minutes later, Jason watched with a beatific smile as another batch rolled into a barrel: rainbow sprinkles, ready to go.

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