“Salt reminds her. She tastes it in everything, minuscule pyramids of Maldon, coarse grains of Kosher, perfect pink granules of Himalayan Sea, black flecks of Kala Namak, plain old crystals of iodized Morton's, the little yellow salt girl on the label. Her favorite is always fleur de sel, its delicate flakes like petals, and as they melt across her tongue she can feel him, their bond unbroken even in death, and in her mouth he lives again, is right there, his aftertaste. He isn't here, she knows. But he's not gone.” Love StorySaltReminders Of Him Book:Aftertaste Source: Aftertaste
“In the end, he doesn't know her by sight, or touch, or sound. Only by taste. The flavor of her kiss a craving, its quality like coming home. The best thing he has ever tried. Will ever. Ever could. A special kind of salt.” Love StoryAfterlifeSaltIn The End It S Love Book:Aftertaste Source: Aftertaste