"Let me rephrase...have you ever caught a fish?"
She hesitated, silent. She remembered with a sickening suddenness her father's finger wriggling through the gill of the frightened, wheezing catch so long ago. How his face had fallen. How Aisha had been frightened and alarmed about the splatter of scales, its struggle to breathe. Worse than the thing beneath the boat, that blind, thundering panic of being tugged onto the dry deck, to be immobile - and her father's laugh, not cruel in sound, but encouraging, sharing with her what he loved - that he could even for a moment teach her what involved playing with what he killed, that she could be so visibly, vulnerably alive -
— The House of Rust by Khadija Abdalla Bajaber (Page 73)
The prose in this book is lovely.