with bones or without?

I imagine the little fish in my soup squirming in my mouth, the crunch of their bones. I run back to the house. I look in my soup. One of the fish is gone. I fish the remaining one out – and drop it in a bowl of water. It’s little mouth is gasping. I saved it! – I think. No, I killed it – I think – it is alive but now partially cooked.

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