Flash design of a white unicorn with a rainbow mane standing on a pink-frosted cupcake with sprinkles and a strawberry, drawn in colour on a pink background.

Unicorn on a rainbow sprinkle cupcake

Colour · Flash

A white unicorn with a pastel rainbow mane and tail stands on top of a pink swirled cupcake. Bold dark outlines define the figure and the cupcake, which has a rainbow striped wrapper, while soft shading gives the frosting and mane depth. Scattered sprinkles, a small strawberry and a pale pink watercolour wash complete the composition.

Unicorn Cupcake Sprinkles Strawberry Rainbow Frosting

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The unicorn had been waiting on our step since before the bells of Lower Pellering, and she did not care for the news that the oven was still cooling. I told her anyway. My grandmother always said a cake could not be hurried, only coaxed, and I had spent three nights coaxing pink frosting into the tall curls the Queen had ordered for Midsummer. It sat on the counter now, lopsided with pride, a sprinkle or two already sliding down its sides.

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She was not a customer, she said, though she had the purse of one: a little leather pouch strung round her neck, bulging with something that clinked. She looked at my cakes the way the Queen's clerks looked at tax returns. Then she pointed a hoof at the strawberry jam on the high shelf and asked whether I had ever made a cake that tasted of a colour. I said no. Nobody had ever asked me that. She said that was why the kingdom had gone grey.

So I did what my grandmother would have scolded me for. I tipped every jar of sprinkles into the mixing bowl, folded in the last of the cream, and baked the batter in a wrapper I had striped with dye from the dyer's yard on Tallow Lane. When it came out the colour of a sunrise over the salt marsh, the unicorn breathed on it once, and the sprinkles lifted off the bench and settled into her mane like birds going home.

She paid me in a single strawberry, still warm from her pocket, and trotted off across the water meadow with the sun behind her. The Queen's cake was ruined, of course. I sent a note to the palace saying the frosting had gone astray. Every morning since, the paper wrapper on my windowsill has grown another stripe, and the bakery smells faintly of the sea.