fu gu — a history of candour, part III

So the man went down the street on that still cold morning,
lifelessly turning right at the first left, walking while yawning.
As soon as he turned that windy freezing corner he was able to watch
the other fish store, where he and the other woman were about to klatsch.

— ‘Morning you, fishwife, do you have, say, cod in slice?
I’d like to take if you do, to cook me a supper for two.

— For two, say you, cod slices? 
Maybe, I might arrange some pollock in dices.

Said the lady with a smear smile, after hanging up the phone
on which she was only listening since the loud ringing tone.

— Pollock? That’s no fish for my taste!
Back to the other store, walking here was a waste!

The man turned his back after in rage mumbling swearing,
while this store lady, with a sharpener and knife, kept staring.
When he turned again that same morning sunlit left corner
she went inside for the phone, to dial back the caller.

this is a series of short-stories

if you missed,
fu gu, part I
fu gu, part II

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