the good kind, three ply

The salmon pulled up on his motorcycle. His scales shone silver and glittered in the sun. He said his name was Pete and he'd come to town for toilet paper. I said the store's right there. He said thanks. Pete went into the store and bought toilet paper. The good kind, three ply. He also bought two lottery tickets and skin moisturizer. I was taken aback. I began crying. I cried for all the pitiful salmon who could not ride motorcycles with the wind in their hair, who could not shop at the grocery store, who could not spend afternoons dreaming of lottery winnings and smooth skin. I cried for my crying to stop. I hoped for a miracle for all the salmon. Most of all I hoped for a monocle.