She had eaten nothing, or almost nothing. He had watched her not eating, watched her pushing food around her plate, sometimes trying to eat. Her mouth would be dry inside; she would be chewing food and it would be turning to dry flavorlessness, to something you would choke on if you swallowed. It could be that way when you were afraid, and there was nothing much you could do about it. There was always some time when you were afraid, and this was her time. You couldn't swallow the first time, if that was the way it hit you.
(from Murder Is Served, by Richard and Frances Lockridge)
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