5/7/2023 0 Comments Sourdough by Robin SloanThe words were written in a dark, confident script-actually, two scripts: each dish was described once using the alphabet I recognized and again using one I didn’t, vaguely Cyrillic-seeming with a profusion of dots and curling connectors. My nightly ration of Slurry waited within.īut the menu intrigued me. I was just home from work and my face felt brittle from stress-this wasn’t unusual-and I would not normally have been interested in anything unfamiliar. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN nutritive gel for dinner, same as always, if I had not discovered stuck to my apartment’s front door a paper menu advertising the newly expanded delivery service of a neighborhood restaurant.
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