The Goldfish
by Kristina
England
Claire woke to
Bubbles floating belly up in its bowl. She
got down on her knees and tapped the glass, but
saw no movement.
She picked up
the bowl and carefully walked down the hall to
her parents room, placing it on the nightstand.
She leaned in and listened to her mother's breath
move in and out of her lungs.
"Mum,"
she whispered. "Mum. Mum."
Claire tapped
her mother's shoulder. Jacqui made a grunt and
turned over.
"What is
it?"
"Bubbles
died."
Jacqui's eyes
opened. She looked at her daughter for a
good minute, sleep fading from her face. "Sweetie,
I'm sorry."
"Mum..."
"Yeah..."
"Is this
what grandpa will look like when he goes?"
Jacqui smiled
softly and ran a hand through her daughter's hair.
"Well,
sort of, although he'll die in a bed, not a bowl."
"But dad
says one in five people die in the toilet."
Jacqui laughed. "On
the toilet, not in it. But now that you mentioned
it, maybe. Although he's way to big to flush down
a toilet."
Claire rolled
her eyes. "Of course! We'll bury him in the
backyard."
"Grandpa?"
"No,
Bubbles, silly. Although, I suppose Grandpa
can fit back there, too."
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