Roadkill Caviar

This is not an affluent neighborhood—I don’t think Jackson, Mississippi has neighborhoods that qualify as such any longer—and sure, this is lump fish caviar, not sturgeon, but still finding a jar of caviar in the middle of the street, even during the holiday season when people tend to splurge, is not the sort of thing one expects on a morning walk. Did I open the jar? Oh, yes, of course I did, and the contents had been partially eaten but didn’t smell rancid, though of course I wasn’t about to stick a cracker in it and find out if it was still edible.

Even with the heavy traffic on this street, the jar is still there, smack dab in the middle of the road, reminding me of the pound of butter Gertrude Stein said a German soldier tasted like an ice cream cone then threw down in the street during the Occupation, and even given the expense and scarcity of butter nobody would touch it, leaving it for the dogs and rats.

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