A Smell.

I pinch my thumb and pointer fingers together, bring them to my nose and smell.

Fish.

It's Fishy.

I pinch the screen on my phone, scroll the jobs section, and smell.

Fish.

It's Fishy.

I think of the project I'm attempting to complete.

It's not so fishy, but it certainly smells.

It's pungent. Everything around me feels pungent.

It's neither good, nor bad, but strong.

I wish for the life of me I could be as strong as this smell.

As strong as my colleague is strong-headed.

As strong as my partner is at his job.

I feel like I'm floundering here!

Like the fish I served my cat, pinched between my fingers.

But it wasn't flounder. It was tuna.

I feel like vacuum sealed tuna

stuck in an airless container,

shelf stable

with an expiration date.

Ripped open, I'm stinky.