Landmine

So my goldfish died again.

I mean, it was a different goldfish from before. I wish it was the same goldfish, then at least it could come back. Like some sort of phoenix rising from its ashes. Though since it's a fish, I guess the ashes would kinda float.

I just kinda stared at him for a while before taking him to the ceramic tomb the British like to call the loo. I didn't know him very long, to be honest. He only enjoyed his stay here for like a week, though I don't know if he enjoyed it. You know, considering he's dead and all. I tried to grab him with my net but the sucker moved pretty fast for a dead guy. I got him and walked with a paper towel under him towards the bathroom.

I didn't really like doing this, after all he was my pet, my responsibility. I'd like to think he was in a better place, but I didn't know how that worked. I wasn't really that religious but I don't think there's like a goldfish purgatory. I can't see little pet fish swimming all over the place in hell. I don't even know how a fish could end up in hell. The sucker had a one second memory, he didn't know any better.

I pulled him out of the net with my fingers and held him over the toilet. This strange feeling ran through my body. I mean, this little guy's lifeless body just made me feel so weird. Just a day ago, he was happy as hell swimming around his little glass bowl, though he wouldn't remember it, on account of the memory loss. Now he doesn't know which way's up. He doesn't even know. It's like he doesn't exist anymore. All his fishy friends probably are worried. I don't think so. They've got more important things to worry about. Like staying underwater, I suppose. Or eating. Or remembering to breathe. Stupid fish.

I dropped his body and it made a small splash on the seat. I wiped it clean with the paper towel and then laid it over his body like an American flag over a soldier. I don't think I could stand to see his soulless skeleton disappear. I didn't want my last picture of him to be filled with a picture of a eye not blinking ever. Blach, I needed to get a hold of myself. It's just a fish.

I decided to color a memorial. Just something to look back on later I guess. I tried to make one every time something important happened. Something I could draw. Fish aren't that hard to draw, and his bowl is pretty simple. The pebbles at the bottom were just circles and ovals. I can draw that. I got out my markers and started tracing an outline of my bowl and my ex-goldfish. I guess goldfish are pretty easy to get over. I used a bolder black marker for the outline of the bowl. Then I drew the pebbles. I started to draw each individual one, but I got bored and tired of the circles really fast so I just kinda scribbled it into the background. All my outlines were done.

I started filling in the bowl and the pebbles at the bottom with solid blues and greens. The only thing I could think of was of how many words I could have written with these markers instead of wasting their bold powers on this stupid poster thing. It looked like I could have written a good poem or two. When I was done, I stuck it in my folder that I called my "art portfolio". I guess I just wanted to be professional at it.

Now I had to empty the bowl of everything and clean it out. I picked up the bowl and went to the kitchen sink. I dumped all the pebbles and the little moss thing into the sink. I felt kinda bad. I mean, if I died I wouldn't like it if someone took all my stuff and dumped it in the street or in the junkyard like I was nothing to them. So I picked up a pebble and put it in my pocket. I guess I could keep it. Maybe when I'm old and gray I'll still remember this little sucker.