Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

I arrived with my arms full of shopping early this morning, so for once I didn’t stop to feed the fish before going in to make tea for my son. I did, however, glance over at the infirmary tank. Round Fish was in his usual place and with his usual posture in the corner of the tank. But even from here, through the opacity of the plastic and with dodgy vision, and I knew. He was gone.

There is something that has nothing to do with the infinitesimal movement of gill or fin. Some indefinable quality. The lights have gone out and life has fled, leaving only the body behind. Those who have seen death know its ‘feel’.

He had looked better… Healing had begun, the scales were beginning to go back into their place, the swollen body had begun to regain its shape… and his eyes were still bright…