Dang girl dang

The coffee machine brewed, dispensing the hot brown liquid into a mug. Leah stood, arms akimbo as she waited to have her beverage served. When the liquid rose to the desired level, she turned off the machine —picking the mug before perching on the stool beside the counter. She spilled in some milk, added a cube of sugar and stirred. Her face bearing a bored expression. She took a sip, then had a bit of her biscuit. The coffee, even with the milk, tasted like death. And the biscuit, it was dry. Like grass. These were the only things her taste buds could interpret: bitter and bland. This morning, she'd ordered pizza. Just to force something palatable down her throat, but guess what, her favourite pepperoni pizza had been unusually stale. Too crusty. Bland without the inviting taste of cheese. And what about the iced tea? Ha! She couldn't tell if what she had taken was iced tea or iced bitters. No, that wasn't an exaggeration. She'd actually tasted bile. The bilious kind of bitter.