aftertaste by jmforceton

23 Jan

Anton P. Throckmorton had just had the most creative idea of his life, not unexpected given his intelligence. He knew it had to tantalize the mind and be daring. “Bet you can’t eat one.” The genius was in the aftertaste. It brought you back, forced you back. You could never forget it. Your taste buds were further satisfied and the brain would store the sense with the slogan forever. “Bet you can’t stop reading here”, he thought as he visualized the marketing proposal for next week’s global marketing review and awards presentation. “Good to the last drop.” Like his breakthrough confection, he had to take them all the way to the cliff without them being able to stop, the perfect cusp, once over, and never back. All that it would take is the first taste.

“Honey, honey,” her voice was a distant, yet approaching, presence rising in his consciousness. “HONEY, try your drink before the ice melts.” His lean, tanned wife, Angelina Valeria, once his obsession, was reclined in a low beach chair next to him caressing a piña colada. “Open your eyes, you’ll miss the sunset.” Her cold hand was on his gritty sea-salt frosted forearm. Surf sloshed on the black volcanic sand a few steps from his feet and his hair was blown against his forehead by the dying early evening sea breeze. He barely heard and he felt nothing. She had refused to allow him upload capability of any kind for this so called vacation week, but he could still think and he had been deep within his thoughts.

He opened his eyes saw the sensuous woman beside him and then saw the napkins next to the sweating glass and the pen next to the room tab. Shaking his head, frustrated because he had no personal cloud sync or even an iXPad, he grabbed the napkins and pen and began writing. There was no chance he would let these ideas fade. He finished writing just as the sensational green sunset flash blinked out on the the ocean’s horizon. There was muted applause and several toasts from a half dozen couples spread along the beach and too loud laughter from the hotel’s outdoor bar a hundred meters behind them. He wasn’t aware of any of it.

His eyes closed and he continued rehearsing the presentation in his mind.

Candy, dispensed by the cloud and instant income collected every cycle someone stayed synced. Soon medicine, booze, narcotics, “so easy a caveman could do it”. Digital delivery made possible by quantum mechanical magic, 5D lensing to create taste, impact mitochondrial function, and on and on. Instant flavor, virtual candy that was in fact real. The implications were only beginning to be understood. He just hoped the military apps didn’t preempt commercial market introductions. Hell, there couldn’t be any federal regulations or patent law complications. It would be like regulating gravity. All because some obscure theoretical physicist started tasting chocolate every time he split oscillating neutrinos. The taste delivery was seamless and the sensation was astounding. He had been sampling flavors personally every chance he could fabricate. “Double your pleasure, double your fun” Ha, this was, “infinite pleasure, infinite fun”.

He thought about his new slogan again and again, “In sync with flavor, forever.” Only years later would cynics add, “The candy you can’t live without.”

He opened his eyes and discovered he was sitting alone in the dark. He sipped his cool drink and tasted nothing. He was only mildly concerned that he hadn’t been able to taste anything during this trip. The important thing was the presentation. He closed his eyes just one more time. The aftertaste, pure satisfaction, so powerful, so necessary.


One Response to “aftertaste by jmforceton”

  1. ingridfnl January 24, 2011 at 8:09 pm #

    You describe his obsession so well! Poor Anton P. Ah well, at least he’ll have his fame to keep him company. 🙂

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