Fish drying on my uncle's laundry line this past March on the day that radiation levels spiked in Tokyo.
When he invited me to try them grilled, I couldn't refuse. It wouldn't have been polite. Upon finishing the last morsel, I guzzled down the glass of warm beer he poured and peering into the bottom of my drinking vessel spied a furry brown life-form clinging to the inner hull. The man is a master breeder of mold. A sprinkling of radiation or a dash of fungus? If I had to choose between them I don't know which I would have picked.
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