Jennifer plunged her hands into the vat of salt water, her eyes tearing with pain as the salt water ate at the cracks meandering across her red swollen palms. Some holiday jobs are worse than others but despite hating the job, she needed it to be able to escape from it.
Move quicker, they’d said but obeying was her downfall. As she increased the speed of the sharp knife she used for preparing the fish, it slipped on the scales cutting through the thick rubber gloves she wore into her own hands. Immersion in the brine dried her own flesh as effectively as that of the fish and she prayed she’d be able to hide her drying, dying hands until she had enough money for her passage home.
I wish I was a fish, she thought, as at least they’re already dead when they’re put in the brine.
In response to Zoe’s SSS prompt dry