flashquake Fiction

Volume 6, Issue 2
Winter 2006-2007

 

rocks and seaweed from an aquarium scene
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Fish
by Sue Williams

He knew how to bone them, that was the thing. He was certainly deft with a knife. She sat with him in Giraldi's, watching him sever the plaice. As he worked, he stiffened his lips. His gaze was set and cool.

It wasn't his perfumed collar, you see, or the spate of late nights, that gave him away; but this — the slicing, the lifting of meat from clean and perfect bones. "It's a science," he said, with a smile.

"Like killing," she replied.

She found herself, on Friday, visiting the aquarium. Jellyfish flounced like silk lungs, sharks moved smooth. "I am free!" she proclaimed, and went home via his office. She found him rutting his secretary, his lover's mouth like a deep, red gash.

"Caught you," she told them.

His guilty eyes met hers. "Just flesh," he said. "No more."

"Like killing," she replied.