The gold fish in my tank that wanted to see the world be amongst its fellow species died today. He so badly wanted to be free, but I never let him free, I bought him to be with me in that tank sitting at the corner of my desk by the window. I opened the curtains and closed them when I wish, his sense of time and day was governed by me, he ate when I wanted to see him eat.
I had no love or happiness to give him, all I did was stare at him for hours on end. I stared at him during the cold snowy nights and through the long grey rainy days. We would both be together saddened by our circumstances. He had seen me do many things: Write essays, read books, stumble in drunk, shout at my computer, shout at my mother, vomit, sneeze, masturbate and cry.
Apart from impersonal innocence, I saw very little in him. He detested me with all his being and had I known him better, I am sure I would have hated him back. If he were to come back as a human he would most definitely find me and stab me. But he's dead and there's no hindu god so thank fuck. But he lost a bet with me.
I bet him I would exit before he...he chose to go shortly after I made that bet with him. Just belly'd up one morning...
I poured the tank water down the toilet. His body stuck to the glass, so I picked up him with my right hand, hesitated for a split second, then tossed him down the toilet free of ritual or good-byes. The body immediately slid under and disappeared, as if he was faking his death just to escape through the shitter.
The tank sits at the corner of my desk empty, the sound of the pump has not been replaced by anything else. Now I am alone just like he was for most of his life.
PROLOGUE
Year: 2120
The bright sun reflects off the desert floor and the remnants of man kind is in massive mountain sized trash heaps with all the confetti of the human party out of use. The sound of rodent seagulls in the distance. A rusty old bulldozer operated by a neo-caveman trudges along pushing through the junk. It's tank track stops suddenly in front of an old broken fish tank, the neo-caveman kicks the gearshift, the bulldozer jerks forward and crushes the tank in an instant. It continues forward, forward through the miles and miles of human invention and materialism.
Topic: My Gold Fish Died