“One pound fifty pence for mushy peas. Our shopping done, we climb a flight of stairs to the fish market, then the stall that smells of vinegar. Two orders of mushy peas slathered in tangy mint sauce, bright green heaven in Styrofoam cups. We walk through the old market square, Nan and me window shopping. We eat, never thinking this is the last time.”

“One pound fifty pence for mushy peas. Our shopping done, we climb a flight of stairs to the fish market, then the stall that smells of vinegar. Two orders of mushy peas slathered in tangy mint sauce, bright green heaven in Styrofoam cups. We walk through the old market square, Nan and me window shopping. We eat, never thinking this is the last time.”

— Saadia Faruqi