Floaters

I have discovered that it is a lot less painful when my aquarium fish die if I have not named them.

After 23 deaths I felt I'd conclusively disproved my hypothesis that the more expensive ones last longer. So instead I bought a whole bunch of the plain, but cheap jobs. I had faith that based on the law of averages at least a couple would survive.

They started kicking off within an hour of me owning them. I changed their water and doused the tank in every anti-ammonia, anti-chlorine, anti-ick chemical that the sweaty guy at the pet store could sell me with a straight face and... still their numbers dwindled.

Yesterday I came home and three of them were floaters, bloated and ravaged by some hideous fish hating virus. I studied the tank for signs of who was likely the next victim. That was when I saw the wedding.

The survivors were gathered near the plastic bubble blowing scuba guy. The blue phosphorescent tank light glistened in the shimmering water. My favorite, the tiny crab, waved his claws emphatically, obviously conducting the ceremony. Near him were two of those plain little jobs, pathetic and ragged. At the end they came together and a trail of fish kiss bubbles drifted to the top of the tank. I fell asleep in disbelief.

This morning I found them both floating on the surface. All day I have wondered whether they got married knowing they were going to die, or if it was the getting married that killed them.