“Fish for sale!”
he screamed across the lane, the tenor echoing from the wood beams. “We’ve got
grouper! Bass! Monkfish!” I stared as his lips conformed to every letter. The
cracked, callused skin writhed in every possible direction. “Come on, people!
This is the premier catch of the morning!”
A man in a
fedora, his stippled beard flashing across his face in the blocks of sunlight,
reached down to the display and tossed the mussels about without looking down.
Their black ridges flicked drops of water, diamond bright, through the air onto
the chunks of ice, but he passed by. I guess it was only a courtesy.
The next one was
a woman. Her hair was the same color as his smock – vitriolic orange. I haven’t
seen a worse dye-job before or since. The fishmonger managed to pull it off,
though. “Young lady,” he lied. “Come on now. Don’t you want a nice piece of
salmon for dinner? It’s fresh out of the Columbia River.” His lips and brow
streaked with lines as she sashayed past. “I pulled it out of the water with my
own hands!”
He grasped at more than just my heartstrings now. I would be justified to punch her,
right? I don’t know how she passed
him by – I hide behind this pillar every day. Is it bad that I don’t know his
name yet?
“I know you want
something, sir! King crab legs! Special price – half off just for you!” A man
in a trench coat scoffed and walked briskly past, cancelling the echoes of the
fishmonger’s voice. “Anyone?” His volume dropped and the color flushed away
from the sharp cheekbones.
I marched out
from behind the pillar. “Hi.” He looked down the hook of his nose at me, a smile
trying to pull at his lips. “Could I get some of those oysters?
-------
I hope you enjoy. Equality for all!
Voss
1 comment :
Brand new follower here, stopping by as an A to Z co-host, so: nice to meet you, Voss!
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