Big Tuna

When you live in Grenada, you don't run to Costco and buy a nicely packaged pound of pink salmon. You go to the fish market. And a somewhat abrasive woman hacks off a pound of tuna for you.



She throws it in a slightly disturbingly grimy scale.



She bags it up in a plastic sack and sends you on your way.

And the tuna sits in your fridge for days and days because you're terrified of burdening your husband with food poisoning right before his midterms.