Taking the top off the saucepan was like lifting the lid on the last four years. That was the last time I’d smelt this abominable odour, the last time I’d attempted to drink cactus juice. I screwed my face up in anticipation. I knew what was coming but I had to remind myself it was a short-term sacrifice (the pollution of my tastebuds) for a long-term gain (up to sixteen hours of orbiting the stratosphere). It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
undergrowth's blog
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