Lola lugged the wooden crate home on foot; she didn’t want her car interior to smell like the fish market. And though the weight of the box made it difficult to carry, Lola smiled as she walked. The soft noises coming from inside the box were barely audible above the sound of the nearby ocean.
In her kitchen, Lola shoved aside the cluttered mess of copper pots, spice tins, and jars packed to the gills with wooden spoons. She hummed cheerfully as she filled the largest pot with water. The noises from the crate grew louder.
“Who’s ready to be dinner?” Lola sang out, as she grabbed a crowbar and pried open the box.
That evening, Lola’s guests were greeted by heavenly cooking smells, and a dining room table packed with covered platters.
“Help yourselves,” Lola grinned, and lifted the lid off the largest serving platter. “To market fresh mermaid!”
Jess
