The Aftertastes, by Daria Lavelle
When you arrive in the Afterlife, you eat and you drink. Pomegranate seeds, the arils like edible jewels, sweet and tart and bitter, garnet beads that burst as you chew. Fungi you know—Porcini; Portobello; Oyster; Straw—and some you don’t—violet Amethyst Deceivers and nubby Dead Man’s Toes—the taste of the things they’ve fed from, the things …