Trust Issues

Parallel Bookends Exercise

Image by Monika Schroeder on Pixabay

“Do you trust me?” he says.

The trout lies on the kitchen table between us. Its skin shines like mother-of-pearl, and the eyes are not milky yet. It does not smell. It is about as inoffensive as a dead fish can be. I shift in my seat. For months he has talked about this, convincing me it is a good idea, begging me to go along. He thinks it will introduce a new dynamic to our relationship and maybe even get rid of my stretch marks.

“Yeah, okay,” I sigh, “but I’m not singing the Marseillaise at the same time.”