Coming home from school, I’m exhausted and hungry, I don’t have a lot of time before practice so I rush to the kitchen, before entering I take my shoes off as mum hates them being worn in the house, not a problem though as I have too put my soccer shoes on anyways. I take the toaster out of the cupboard and plug it in. Opening the pantry, I look at my vast collection of Poptarts, I’m torn between the classics like chocolate chip or blueberry than there’s the alternatives like s’more or confetti cupcake. It’s a hard decision for a kid to make okay, usually I have the time to ponder the options in front of me but today is not that day, so I grab the chocolate chip and pop it in the toaster.

I run upstairs to get my soccer shoes and too change into my uniform, I hear the tarts pop up as I run down the stairs, I check my phone, 5 minutes to eat, I sit down at the bench, and bite into my Poptart. I like chocolate chip pop tarts, only problem, this doesn’t taste anything like one, too be frank, it doesn’t taste like anything, I take another bite, again tastes like nothing. I grow a little concerned but it could just be a dud, this is made in a factory after all, mistakes happen, maybe just a bad batch. I open a new box, this time blueberry, I debate toasting it, decided that toasted or not, it will taste the same. I take a deep breath, inching the tart closer and closer to my mouth, I feel as though my mouth is sweating, stupid but still, I take a bite, waiting for that strong artificial blueberry flavour too take over my taste buds, too devour them with all its richness but nothing.

My once growing concern has reached its peak to full blown panic, I start looking for anything to eat, I see the fruit basket, fruit isn’t made out of a factory, you can’t mess that up. I grab an apple, nothing, orange, still nothing, I swear I take a bite out of every single fruit in that basket, everyone of them tasteless. It’s a disturbing feeling, knowing what something should taste like than not tasting it, it feels as though your going insane. I fall to the ground, sobbing, feeling conflicted, I’m not dying, I know that, I can live without the sense of taste, I know that also, but I feel as though I’ve taken my sense of taste for granted, I think of all those home cooked meals mum made, quite literally tasting the love, grounding me, centring me. A good meal could make you feel safe, mums cooking always made me feel safe, what now?