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No Guts, No Story

The soup came next. It contained several cloves of garlic and a few green beans, but it was mostly filled with shriveled lumps of...something.

“Are those mushrooms?” Katie asked.

“I don't think so.” The soup had a distinct odor that I couldn't quite place. I grabbed a “mushroom” with my chopsticks and put it into my mouth. It didn't have much flavor, but its chewy texture made me want to spit it out. I tried, unsuccessfully, to tear the “mushroom” with my teeth. I took a swig of beer and swallowed it whole.

“Well? What is it?”

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