The Fish-lady's Slice of Pizza

(This was originally written for a Creative Writing class a few years back, I figured I would post it here for the sake of preservation.)

And in walked the fish-lady.

She was known amongst us gypsies because she would come in once or twice a week to talk to Maribella, the one eyed seer, my great-aunt. Ophelia, that was her name, was a very superstitious woman and she believed in omens and angels and black cats and rituals. She paid us with money and sometimes with fish.

Her hair lay like a dry mop on her head, dusty and forgotten in a closet, her jerry curls were no longer than my outstretched hands and her skin was tanned from the ferocious sun that beat down on her when she was out at sea. She was a fisher-woman, one of the few that existed.

As she waited for Maribella to come out from her quarters she went ahead and sat down at the table we had set up for Maribella. The table was at one of the corners of the building and for privacy we had it shielded with veils and thin curtains. The uninviting, cracked leather seat collected dust in it shadowed concrete nook. Ophelia just dusted the seat and sat down. It was not like she had to dust it as she was dirtier than the chair but I suppose she did it because of some conditioned behaviour that was forced into her as a child. "Say thank you if somebody gives you something." "Always keep your legs closed when you're sitting down."

Ophelia then dug into her bag and pulled out a little package wrapped in foil and tied with string. It looked like one of those little packages of food my grandmother used to make for me to take to school when i was in kindergarten, only back then we wrapped the food in banana leaves and not foil. Anyway, Ophelia pulled out this package from her bag and opened it out to reveal a slice of pizza. She smiled a little when she opened it, like a little child opening a birthday present. With that same happy expression she held up the slice of pizza and took a bite out of it. Her chewing was like that of one of those happy, pretty girls on the television set telling us to buy some expensive make up or something. She enjoyed chewing and tasting her pizza and looking at her made me hungry too, which is funny because the first thing I feel when Ophelia comes into the parlor is nausea, this wasn't because I disliked her or anything, it was just that the smell of fish was so strong.

As she set her slice of pizza down to take a look around a huge rat jumped up n the table and tried to steal her food. Big rats aren't uncommon in these parts as we live in one of the poorer parts of Aveiro, Portugal. Perched heavily on the tinfoil of her all too short lunch, he scampered away with what seemed like some sort of pride as Ophelia shoo-ed it away. She looked rather sad for a second as she stared down at her slice of pizza which was defiled by a hungry rat.

To my horror and utter disgust, she lifted up the slice and brought it close to her face, thankfully she just took a whiff of it and threw it into the garbage can that was next to the table. She turned towards me and smiled a small tired looking smile, shrugged and said, "Maktub."