The Glutton

by A.K. Blakemore

Everyone needs salt, the killer agrees. Life is miserable without salt. It’s miserable with salt—but maybe more bearably so.

You are not a victim. You are a vile, unpleasant man. He rolls his blue doleful eyes toward her. Can I not, asks the Great Tarare, be both?

It terrifies him sometimes, how much there is to know that he does not. But he knows that these mysteries are God’s and that they ought not to frighten him, but humble him.

If I go into a butcher’s shop I always think it’s surprising that I wasn’t there instead of the animal. —FRANCIS BACON

The English, well. He shrugs. It’s always a bit of fun to be at war with the English, no?