Having just watched the Carnival in Cuba Street (*), I'm just consuming some shrimp as a late night meal. I recall a time when I would have been squeamish unpeeling these suckers. Indeed, I recall a time when I would have been blase unpeeling these suckers.
Now I'm careful to detach their little heads and place them in front of me as I eat, their beady looking eyes staring at me while I feast on their flesh. I like to imagine squeaky little voices whimpering in fear and terror. I give them little names, the same as certain people I work with. And, tonight, I shall leave them there alone staring into the dark contemplating the fate that has just befallen them.
It rubs the dressing on its skin...
(*) LAVs! Girls in body paint! Um, there were probably other things as well, but I'm both shallow and forgetful.