- - Jesus.
He tried it again. He’d never tasted anything like it. That was the chemo – he’d read about it, before he stopped reading. How his taste might become heightened.
He sipped again. It exploded – it just exploded – upwards, straight into his brain. He shook. Coffee tastes amazing. X He fired the text off to Aoife. She’d like that.
He looked around. Everything else was normal. The Brazilian young one behind the counter still looked nice...but she was still the same young one - that was the point. Everything was the same. It was just the taste; it was exact, scientific. He wasn’t going mad.
from The Guts by Roddy Doyle