Nothing Tastes as Good

It was among the greatest frustrations of Emmett’s body that clothes didn’t fit it. Please don’t say it. “Just maybe think about putting on an extra lick of deodorant in the morning, huh, buddy?” A pair of teenage associates stopped in the hall as they were passing, their eyes flicking over Emmett’s body. He turned and retched again, as if his body were attempting to force out the memory of Emmett’s bloody face from that morning, the bits of meat, he now realized, he’d been pulling out of his teeth all day. He struggled to sleep, finally sinking into a nightmare of being arrested while flayed open on the operating table.