The Flavor Bible Novels & Stories

I asked him. "Vanilla. Yours?" "Anything except strawberry and vanilla. Those are bland flavours." "Don't you dare speak ill against vanilla." He threatened. "I shall!" "Then pizza is aweful- ouch I can't even say that as a revenge." Blake tried to comeback but couldn't. "Ha! See I was right. Vanilla ice cream is bland." "So is your humour, but you don't see me complaining, do you?" I gasped at this. "Excuse me? I-"

" And one more thing, you smell awesome today. Vanilla.., my favorite flavor. I can't wait to taste it..." " You son of a bi*ch. " I murmured under my breath

I wasn't sure whose I wanted more. "Excellent choice. Those guys are legendary." She was trying to make small talk but talking wasn't my thing. Sorry. "Here, one of Walt's best art work." She handed me a book. "Song of myself." I read the title out loud while checking out the book. "Or do you prefer Leaves of grass? That one is quite nice but I prefer this one." She said. The lady was a strawberry blonde with brown eyes. She had a round baby like face and slim lips. She was pretty and looked within her early twenties.

"So what's up with the coffee? It looks so... I dunno... strong I guess." Two of the girls looked at each other briefly and giggled a little. One of them spoke with a little bit of bashfulness in her tone, "Well... it's bitter, and... well... it's not a bad idea to get used to bitter tastes." The girl next to her added, "I put some salt in mine. Same sort of reason... You know." Ew. I had no idea what kind of brainwashing they were getting but honestly I wasn’t interested in swallowing what they had swallowed. These girls were slightly cracked inside I guess. Or maybe a bit lonely.

"Oh, funny story. There's this one regular customer who comes in every Thursday and orders the same thing, a medium margherita with no basil. And every single Thursday without fail he asks me to confirm that there's no basil on it. As if I'm going to forget or I have ever once forgotten." I shook my head while laughing. "So, last Thursday, I was so frustrated by the guy that I wrote NO BASIL in capitals on the order slip and held it up so the guy could see it from the table. Marco saw me do it and I thought I was going to get fired on the spot, but the customer actually laughed, so—" I picked up my fork again and then paused as the realisation dawned on me right there and then. "Wait." Eli r

The babies could born anytime. It's night, Ares and Zeus was cuddling each other while sitting on the couch of living room and watching TV. "Zeus, I want ice cream." Said Ares looking at Zeus with puppy eyes. "Mn.... which flavor?" Asked Zeus. "Chocolate, vanilla and strawberry." Ares said. "This much?" Zeus asked and Ares nodded. "Mn." Ares said. "Baby you will catch cold. Why not just one flavor." Zeus said. "Why are you not letting me eat it all? Three flavors for me and my babies." Ares said while pouting and Zeus sighed.

A wine that tastes sweet is rare, but the bitterness kind of wine is common. The temporary burning sensation in your throat down to your senses brings you an ecstatic feeling. But those are just temporary emotions. As the daughter of a winery owner and the CEO for almost 10 years, I'm too eager to make a wine that tastes sweet, something that will let you feel that life isn't that bitter anyway. But how can I make it if my life itself is not that vibrant? My feelings are the reflection of every formula I make…that's why sometimes it becomes bland, tasteless.

He turns back to me, taking the glass from my hand, filling it and taking a drink. Another drink arrived, and he handed it to me. "Try that one…" He challenged me. I grinned at him and downed the contents of the glass he handed me. My tongue suddenly tingled from the taste. I heard him chuckle and held something out to me. "Here.." He rubbed a small piece of lemon on my lips, and I sucked his thumb, staring at him. Was it just the alcohol that made me do that? Or was I physically attracted to him? For a moment, everything around us stopped. Even the loud music seemed to fade away, the smoke and dim lights blurring in my vision. Then suddenly, he slowly kissed me.

Victor said behind her. "I can and I am," she replied. "There are twenty-six flavours. This requires thought." "Pick something."he pleaded "I will pick something when I'm ready to pick something."Lauren rolled her eyes. She heard him exhale through his nose and then he stepped up beside her. "Salted caramel," he said. "You decided that in four seconds."she gasped "It's the only flavour I've tried and I don't think I'm ready to ruin my taste buds."

“An exceptional harvest.” The draft truly registers as an elite pressing, but even as the liquid slides down my throat, the raw, slick taste of Rowan’s wet cunt completely permeates my sensory grid. It represents a primal flavor that has been permanently branded into my neural pathways. One that my internal wolf swears will function as the baseline metric for every alternative flavor that attempts to touch my palate for the remainder of my life cycle. It is distracting to my system, to state the absolute minimum.