The first thing that hit me wasn’t the smell. It was the dread.
One second, it was just a normal pizza night. The next, I was staring at the cheese, convinced something was wrong, my brain racing through every worst-case scenario. Tiny bubbles. Strange texture. A feeling that something wasn’t right, even though nothing obvious was. I zoomed in with my eyes, then with my phone, trying to make sense of it. Each second made it feel more suspicious, more unsafe, more per… Continues…