It was as though my mouth was on fire. The tears started
as I was trying to swallow. I managed to swallow half. I frantically chewed the
smashed bits that remained in my mouth in an effort to get them down faster. I
could track the peristalsis by the burning. After that, each breath felt like
fire. I imagined that was what it felt like to be in a burning building, except
that death would eventually end the suffering. I didn’t have the luxury of
death. Or milk. Or bread. Or anything really. I was dizzy and sweating for
hours.
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