At the fish market the price falls until someone shouts

Fourteen euros a box, says the clock at the fish market at ten past five, and the number starts to fall: thirteen eighty, thirteen twenty, and the buyers let it cool.

Amelia, skipper of the Nuevo Ruiseñor, has landed forty boxes of sardine and watches the number, not the men.

At twelve forty somebody shouts. That box is done. Amelia turns towards the second stall and says, without raising her voice: «And it still smells of last night.»