The Food Stall
Stopping at the food stall1 on the way home was a mistake. Allan remembered the cook sprinkling large amounts of “magic2” over the mystery meat3 on the grill. Meat that wasn’t stored in a cooler. The cook hadn’t even used utensils4, flipping the food with his bare hands.
But Allan was hungry, and now he would pay for it. By the time he got home, his belly was in turmoil. Soon, he was in the bathroom, spewing toxic5 chunks into the toilet. It felt like it would never end and that he might pass out6, breathing as much air as he could before his belly started its next push. Allan’s face was almost fully in the toilet bowl, which amplified the sounds of him retching like a fog horn7.