"I want to buy this!" I exclaimed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "How much is it?"

Jacques gave me a puzzled look, one brow climbing like it was trying to flee his face.

"That? Oh, that's that weird grain from the east. It's… practically feed. People don't eat it here, mostly it's for animals."

I stared at him.

In that moment, I wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or stage an intervention.

Feed?

Feed?!

How dare he. How dare this man stand here, breathing air like the rest of us, and call rice, THE RICE, animal feed!

Rice was not feed. Rice was life itself!

It paired with stew, curry, soup, even a desperate splash of broth on a cold night.

Rice was everything to everyone on the planet, the silent hero of every meal: and this fool thought it was for cows?

I clutched the sack protectively.

"Mr Jacques," I said solemnly, "you have no idea what kind of greatness you're ignoring."

"Yes? Greatness?" He scratched his head, confused, "I don't know…. I mean it sells well as animal feed so yeah it's kind of great."

Wow he's dense, I thought.

It was no use explaining it to him; all that mattered was I found gold!

Rice… when was the last time I even ate it?

I almost wanted to cry.

"I'll take some," I said, determined to buy it in large quantities. Jacques gave me a confused look, before sighing and ordering a sack to be placed aside for me.

When I asked for another sack, he could not help but speak.

"It's for animals," he emphasized, "Don't try to eat it."

"Okay, okay," I said, urging him to add one more.

Something in my mind felt like he might tell his wife to make sure I don't eat it.

I was sure I even heard him muttering about me having 'weird' tastes.

It didn't matter; I got it regardless.

Jacques stopped for a moment, then he reached beside a stall and, without warning, shoved a squawking chicken practically into my face.

I screamed, nearly jumping out of my skin.

"Take this," he said unfazed, "You can feed this bird those sacks of grain. Besides, it lays eggs almost daily, and with this many sacks you can get double the amount, so you'll win regardless."

"Are… are you insane?" You crazy bastard?! "Why would you-"

"It would be good, no?"

He said, shoving the closer.

"This way, I can at least rest easy that you won't eat it."

The speckled brown and white chicken squawked and flapped its wings indignantly, feathers flying into my hair. I blinked at it, then at him, horrified.

All this, just because I bought some rice?

Marie, there's something wrong with your husband!