De gustibus non est disputandum

This was bad news. This was very bad news. Every attempt to refute it failed – every test, every trial, every line of inquiry, they all turned out the same. The sense of taste was gone. Irrefutably gone

This would mean getting tested, conclusion foregone. It would also mean staying at home for a couple of weeks, with all the logistics that entailed. It would also also mean that it’d be utterly meaningless to eat the jar of ice cream she’d bought a few days ago


It would definitely be heavenly to eat once taste returned. Something to look forward to, at least

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