This is the personal blog of alisonraymond

There at Emily’s feet, a single herring, glistening, a garnet eye set in burnished silver upon the black ironstone cobbles.
What magic had placed it here?
A passing Gannet perhaps, overburdened by its prize plucked from the maelstrom had surrendered the fish high above.
Or was it old Mr Henley the fishmonger who, in his haste to get to market, had allowed this tiddler to slip from the basket?
And what of Mrs Jenks? Always buys Herrings for tea on a Tuesday, was it the moistened newspaper wrappings which had failed allowing this one small fish to escape the feast?
Emily gazed upon the jewel hard won by another from the jealous sea.
She examined it, exploring every part of the little body.
The palid lips on a downturned mouth,
The eye, now misting,
The bony gill covers, and the succulent flanks. Shining metal painted olive above and cream below.
She ate it, slowly, exquisitely, savouring the rich oiliness
And she thought
“Life’s not so bad for cats!”