Pastrami-Style Salmon

He was receiving oxygen when I walked in.

“Did you bring them, dollek?”

“Yes, Gramp.” The sick-sweet hospital smell receded before the warm, heady scents of garlic and pepper mixed with rich tobacco as I unwrapped the hot pastrami sandwich, sour pickle, and expensive cigar.

We both knew it was going to be his last meal. He was now ninety-four, and cancer of the lymphatic system coursed rapidly through his body.

Though well lubricated with fat (why bother remo