By Lorenzo Berardi
It looks like blood. And it tastes like old LPs.
How do I know what LPs taste like? Because once I licked one of my Pops’ records. I thought it was a giant liquorice wheel. It tasted queer, just like this elixir I have to take twice a week.
I’m a lucky boy. Not everyone can swallow LP-flavoured blood these days. It’s for my own good, Mum says. One day I’ll understand.
One day I’ll thank her and Pops for locking the door and not letting me go outside to play with my friends. We have the iodine solution; they don’t.
What?
Eerie ending.
Sounds like quite a unique family–my kind of people! LP-flavored blood. Haven’t heard that before!
I get the solution. But what’s the health problem? Goiters? Infertility? Cancer? Some rare physic phenomenon?