
In the kebab shop there’s a fish tank.
In it there’s a sucker-fish, a fish with a mouth where (if it were human) a neck would be.
Excited because we have one at home, I call out, ‘Do you feed it courgette?’ and a kebab-maker turns and looks down at me over the counter, frowning.
‘Or peas?’ I say, pointing at the tank.
The kebab-maker keeps staring at me, saying nothing, and I’m starting to feel almost ashamed for having asked, until suddenly he goes, ‘No, sometimes a little tablet.’
‘Yes,’ I say, relieved, ‘us too. Sometimes the little tablet.’
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