This camping trip along the East coast of Canada was for my Dad’s 60th birthday. This fellow here is also having his 60th birthday. We stopped at this local market to use the bathroom and find out how much smoked salmon by the pound costs, because my Father was living off that shit cause he’s kosher and can’t eat un-kosher meat or un-kosher chicken plus he happens to love that shit, and we happened to notice this enormous beast of a lobster, which my brother can eat cause there’s nothing he doesn’t. We didn’t buy the lobster. He went back to his ‘life-with-many-roommates.’ But I thought I saw (for a split second anyway) my Father and this lobster make eye contact. It was quick and I was looking at some postcards and my Father, after finding out the price of the salmon and deeming it too expensive said, “I’m in the car,” and just as he turned I saw him. And I saw the lobster. My Dad tilted his head as a form of primal communication and the plight of them both was acknowledged as the lobster swung his eyes. What they exchanged in that moment I’ll never fully understand. But what I took from it is we are all one.