Yelping with Cormac

We do not hear from the man who ate the taco until November of that year, when he returned to the town on the back of a mule. The villagers gathered in the square reverently as if before them rode some great emissary. Staring with coalblack eyes at the man in his rags and on a crude cedarwood pike the halfeaten taco moldering. He dismounted and stood before them. And in a quiet voice he began to speak. The villagers overcame their fears and ancient taboos and approached him. To listen and to assure their eyes that he was of flesh and of blood.

The man spoke of his trials with the taco so terrible even God could not eat it. That it had cleansed not only his gut but also his soul. And a veil had been lifted and he could see the truth. And the villagers leaned in crossing…

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