His toe began throbbing and he flung the bed sheets off of him. The
mattress creaked as he sat up in bed. His head pounded and he felt
faint when he tried to stand. He lay back on the bed and watched the
blades of the fan whir above him. The episode finally passed and he
fell asleep.
The next day, he had dinner at a steakhouse. He cut his tenderloin
into cubes until a thin layer of blood coated the plate. His heart
beat quickened as he took the first bite. He chewed quickly and
swallowed and cleared his palate with a swig of beer. He leaned back
on his chair, content and satiated.
He stayed up late that night, guzzling one beer after another, and
awoke to sunshine. He smiled. No pain. The doctors were all wrong. He
wouldn’t have to change his diet. He celebrated by lighting the grill.
52|250 A Year of Flash 
Doctors, what do they know. Hey, Buddy, what some cheese fries with that?
Ah, the ecstasy of self denial. I fear for him when the harsh truth hits him later on.
Great flash!
Ha! Very funny — let’s fast forward five years. peace…
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