I like to think about that fish eye I ate one night showing off, being funny for friends during an elegant dinner. It was nothing like I thought it would be. The eye was hard like a corn kernel and I had to bite hard to get through it, through to its essence of all things slimy and fishy, enveloped in sticky sea drool. If I never eat another fish eye again I won’t be sorry. But I’m glad I did that once, for I do love to think about my teeth tearing through that eye into its disturbing pupil. Surprise. LE