It began with something rotten, bitterness so sudden and sharp in its intensity that his tongue might have begun to wither behind his teeth. The forkful of eggs in David Ollin's hand stopped dead in midair. Colors seemed to blur, silver and yellow becoming shadows of themselves before his tired eyes. Poisoned, like what he tasted now. He blinked, and felt his stomach tumble. What-

                “David?”

                He looked up from his plate, paused. Her sky blue eyes didn’t look at him like most would. They were soul piercing, those eyes, the sort that sought to see into a thing instead of what may surround it. And now those eyes were concerned, studying him from across the table the way women always did.  Of course, he wasn’t able to meet them for long, so he lowered his gaze and tried to chew, paying no heed to his screaming taste buds.  He took a deep breath. “It’s nothing Judy. There’s nothing wrong. These eggs are good,” he said in a low voice. Indeed, the bitterness was fading from his mouth. Yet...

                She eyed him a second more, but he must have convinced her, because she began to chatter again, like she always did. Even this early in the morning, she jabbered on incessantly. “Oh, thank God.  I used different cooking oil this time you know, the one they’re always advertising on the television. With the tune I mean. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

                He checked his watch. ****. He began to shovel the eggs into his mouth, swallowing without tasting, a motion interrupted every few seconds with a flood of tongue searing creamed coffee. “Nope, never heard it” he responded after his plate was clear. He stood up, straightening his tie. “Tell the kids I can’t pick them up today. We’re downsizing at work.”

                Judy, in contrast to her husband’s pace, sipped her coffee with care and quiet. Her plate was still full of eggs. A piece of toast, lightly buttered, was untouched as well. “That’s fine dear, as long as you are the one doing that downsizing.”

                David eyed her plate warily, but said nothing. As he stepped past her chair to grab his briefcase, he gave her a peck on the cheek. “Be good now, and clean up properly.”

                She nodded slightly, swallowing. “I will. Be safe now.”

                David looked at her, smiling in that distracted manner he always did, as he turned away from her and walked outside the door without a word. Then there was only the quiet of a morning house, before living creatures had come to dwell throughout its hollowed innards.

                Judy pulled back the sleeve of her nightgown, exposing creamy skin that, disturbingly, was mottled up in patches every inch or so. Each was a multitude of congested ropy veins the color of an eggplant, rising from beneath the skin.

                Watching them in the new day’s light, one could almost see them move.

                Almost.

                Judy smiled, eyes glittering. They suddenly seemed too large for her head.

                She hadn't taken the pills for a long, long time.

                Others would soon follow.