First Day of Work at the Fish Market – Lindsey Hudson

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All I have to do is stand at my table and wait for customers, wrap up their fish in 
brown paper, and count out the change.

People come and go, making their selections and taking them away, one fish much like 
the next, grey, with eyes shiny and blank like plastic. 

But just before noon, I see a girl lying on top of the pile. From the waist down she’s 
a fish, but her top is human. Her tail is grey, and her skin is so pale I can see the 
blue veins. I touch her arm; it feels like flesh. I touch her tail; it’s all rough 
scales. I look around for my employer, but I don’t see him anywhere. He must be 
sorting in the back of the truck; he’s told me to not bother him with questions, to 
use my best judgment.  

So I wrap her up in brown paper and set her on my table.

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