The other day I was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store watching a fish slowly gasp it’s last in a plastic bag as the conveyor belt lurched forward so it’s dead body could be scanned along with the soy sauce and toilet paper. Gingerly I placed my items on the moist rubber, wondering what else might have died there. Yesterday I saw a father helping his little son pee into a plastic bag hanging below the meat counter. In China most children’s clothing is sold with a split crotch, for, uhm, convenience. That has nothing to do with my story, but I saw it and I needed to tell someone. I knew I smelled more than seafood.

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