Day One - Evening

The plum sauce experiment was a success, in terms of palatability.  Eaten cold, Coraline-au-prune still made for quite the dusty dish, but after heating in the microwave, the basement was barely detectable.  The sauce permeated the paper completely, and congealed into a caramelized gum at the rim of the plate.  It wouldn't pass for haute cuisine in a million years, but it came close to tasting like food.  I cooked up another fifteen pages this way, and ate nearly all of it.  The rest went in the fridge for later.  I'll take it to work in a sandwich tomorrow.  Not only should that improve the taste, but it will also conceal what I'm doing.  People might get suspicious if I keep taking my meals in the men's room.

All of which leads me to wonder, should suffering be part of the experience?  Should I be trying to make this easier on myself, or should I be choking down every bitter page on the sly?  Do I need to taste the ink and paper, or is the simple act of eating it enough?

I don't feel any different yet, apart from an uncomfortable heaviness in my gut.

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Comments

[Aja]

Genius. 'Nuff said.