You don’t want to know what I ate for dinner.
No. I do. Tell me.
You’ll be horrified. You’ll mock me.
No I won’t. Was it broccoli and rice again?
No. Well, you’re partially right.
Oh no. Rice. And sardines.
Rice and salmon.
Urrrrrghhhh. Rice and salmon. Tinned salmon.
*sound of exhalation
You had rice and tinned salmon for dinner. That’s so bland and boring and disgusting.
No, actually, it’s very good for you. Salmon is chock full of Omega fatty acids. Omega threes. And it was brown rice, which is excellent for your vowels.
Yes but canned salmon is slimy and gross. And it’s so bland.
I had one other ingredient.
*sounds of being strangled. Onions.
Onions. So for dinner you had onions, brown rice and canned salmon.
Well you didn’t have to eat it.
No. It’s bad enough listening to you talk about it.
But I offered not to not reveal the details.
I had to know.
I’m willing to drop the whole topic. How was your day?
Salmon. From a can. Not even real salmon.
It’s real enough when it goes into the can. I have moved on from the salmon. I caught it, now I have released it. You have caught it and put it in an aquarium. It’s in there swimming away, trying to get upstream. And you’re there poking it with a stick and tapping on the glass.
I don’t understand why you eat such boring food. What’s the point of living?
About as much point as that salmon you’re annoying in that tank.
We should name him.
Your salmon. How about Tinsel?
No. I don’t like it. How about Dick?
I think Tinsel the Salmon is festive. Gives him hope.
What about SalMON Rushdie?
You’re a fan of magical realism? Actually, given your fetish with my food, you might be.
What does that mean?
Salman Rushdie? Satanic Verses? Magical realism as a type of fiction?
Whatever. Tinsel is a stupid name for a fish. He’s Salmon Rushdie.