In the days that would follow, I remembered

In the days that would follow, I remembered speaking the words that ended us. They tasted salty in my mouth and I couldn't tell if I was remembering the tears or tasting them again

but i realized that all the salt was coming from my dog's tongue. I fainted with my mouth open and that damned Mastiff was licking my tongue. Why just a few minutes ago that

would have been the worst thing I had in my mouth. That is, before I went on a gluten-free diet. Compared to that, the current contents of my mouth were a welcome change. In fact,

I could not imagine a better mouthful than I currently had. I said triumphantly to the host of folks around me, "HRM, FFRg prm grnnnprnmnn frmnpm.". Sonya was not convinced.

Then what did Sonya know. I spewed the mouthful out as I realized. It splattered on the face of the gentleman across the table. That taste was so distinctive... death was coming

too slowly for my liking and I determined to speed it up. I snatched up the closest thing I had to a weapon: my fork. Snarling a quick "sorry" to the food-bespattered gentleman

I ran into the crowded dining room. A huge luncheon of Red Hat Ladies was in progress. The sturdy woman in a crimson beret began to speak from the podium, saying

how awful it was that this had happened and what they could do to fix it. No one noticed the waiter in the corner, counting heads. No one saw him when he pulled out his phone to

text the staggering number to his leader in SriLanka, so casually, as if the 30-odd human heads in a lake of blood at his feet were only so many meatballs in a vat of marinara. For