Mackerel.

Summer 2021, Mackerel fishing, Isle of Lewis, Scotland.

How are you still quivering when there is nothing left inside? Scooped out guts and tiny red triangle heart. Firm in my hand as blade punctures flesh. One, two, three rakes of the knife from belly to head. Beautiful fish, shimmer like oil on water. Still swimming upwards in the air, curling and thrashing on the line. A reach, a grasp, a smooth slippery fish filling my hand. Firm fast body strong and alive. Funnel mouth open wide, as big as your head, let me in to gently remove the hook. A quick snap. Your pink red gills pushed outwards in rows and then your body gives. Softened and still in my small, strong hands, metal flakes on my fingertips and palms.