Fire Eater - A Short Story
“I’ve never liked eating. I’m often told by my mother that I used to love pickled radish or scrambled eggs or whatever was in front of me at that particular moment. A story I’ve grown tired of. A story… indeed.. a fiction - is exactly what “having a preferred cuisine” is. A mere accessory crafted by people to impart colour into an otherwise dull, grey life. But then again, what is not such fiction? One’s favourite song, style, person, place, moment and so on. What significance do they have other than their arbitrary subjective appraisal (a temporary appraisal at that, for most)? I’ve never understood such an inclination most around me seem to possess. Regardless, my particular aversion to food, more specifically to the act of eating food, is, unfortunately, a psychosomatic one. Whenever I think about food or eating, a cyclic pattern deeply ingrained in my pathology ensues. At first, especially if I have gone without food for a prolonged duration of time, the thought is pleasant. I...