Fish

Last night we had fish—a tilapia baked to perfection—along with couscous and a salad of fresh spinach, pears, and walnuts. Afterwards we watched two episodes of Transparent. Before going to bed, I filled the glass baking dish with hot soapy water and set it down to soak. In the morning I scraped the dish to loosen the debris and carried it to the bathroom to dump the water into the toilet, having first made sure that the toilet seat was up. In the story I write of this, no doubt it will be Laura who carries the dirty, water-filled baking dish. She will start out slow with the baking dish pressed against her bare belly, before I instruct her on the best way to avoid sloshing: hold the dish away from your body and walk fast but smooth and don’t look at the dish. In real life I managed not to slosh. In the story there may be quite a bit of sloshing. Anyway, I flushed the toilet and took the empty dish back to the kitchen sink and washed it thoroughly with fresh, hot, soapy water. I also washed the couscous pot and the salad bowl. But I forgot to wash the lid to the pot. An hour or so later (which would be about 15 minutes ago) I ran water onto the lid. The rush of water on the metal made a nice sound. I took a photo with my camera phone.