the fish connection

He got another stick, lit it and inhaled deeply. Smoke swirled around his head, and got absorbed in the heavy air. Only he didn’t smell the tobacco. He smelled the mornings when he left the kitchen with fish scales on his chin, coconut meat strips on his shirt, and garlic jammed into his fingernails. For him, the Generoso home revolved around the kitchen, so long ago.

*finally finished the fourth LitCrit original last week. Yey!