When I woke up from sleep this morning I initially thought I'd had a really deep and meaningful, thought-provoking dream. In it, I was in prison for being the wife of a paedophile, and I had no idea what had happened to my husband. The other ladies in prison with me were as helpful as they could be, but the prison guards were relentlessly cruel and I was deeply unhappy. One day they told me there had been a verdict as to the fate of my husband and they brought me a laundry box and told me to go and hang out the washing. Inside the laundry box was my husband, in slices. On waking I thought how horrible this was. And then I remembered the detail that made it one of my dreams, and not one of anyone else's.
The slices were slices of salmon, and I'd been married to a fish. Of course.