When It happened, I lost my sense of taste. I swear. I don’t know how. But it was as if each bud was switched off, the way my abah switches off the lights in his store at the end of the day— one by one by one by one— and with each flick of a switch, I lost another flavor: Flick—sweet. Flick—sour. Flick—salty. And on and on until nothing was left but a darkness that weighed down my tongue and made the food stick in my throat like glue. I didn’t tell. Well, you can’t, can you? Not when you have a little brother to take care of and your father’s eyes grow squinty and worried, the lines around the
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