I have a fish named Willie. I’ve had him for a long time. He’s a goldfish - but he’s black. He’s a good fish. He’s got big eyes. He looks at me when I’m in my room and I tap on the glass to show him how much I love him.

When I go out I get scared that he gets bored. Sometimes I leave the radio going - sometimes the tele. One day I pushed the computer monitor right up beside the tank (our screensaver has fishes swimming across the screen - Willie liked it a lot).

My Mum bought Willie a “female companion.” Her name’s Zelda. Zelda’s also a goldfish - but she’s red. She’s got big eyes too.

My Mum says Zelda and Willie love each other. My brother said they hate each other’s guts. I don’t believe either of them because Zelda and Willie don’t have much to do with each other.

My Uncle Roger says Zelda is a “sexy fish,” but I’d never say that in front of Mum because I know that’s rude. I asked Uncle Roger if he thought Willie and Zelda liked each other. He said that they just kept meeting because fish only have three-second memories. He says that by the time they get into any deep conversation it’s too late, because they’ve already forgotten who the other one is. That’d be annoying.

I like Willie - and Zelda. I hope they don’t hate each other’s guts. I think they like each other. Maybe Uncle Roger’s right.
 
 

Hmm, rock. Hmm, rock. Hmm, rock. Rock, isn’t it? Rocks on the ground. Rocks on the ground. Many rocks on the ground. Cold. Gee, it’s cold. It’s a bit cold. Cold today. It’s really cold. Cold everywhere. Where am I? What is this? Where am I? I’ve never been here before. It’s cold here. Cold today. Hmm, rock. Round rock. Gee, it’s cold. What’s that? What’s that shining? What’s shining? Oh, I can move. I’m moving. Didn’t know I could move. I wish I could move. Cold here. I’m high up. High up. I think I’m pretty high up. Sounds like - sound! What’s that sound? Hey, noise. Where’s that noise coming from? Lookie there! Look. Wow, what’s that? There’s something there. What’s that? What’s that just there? That’s my nose. What’s on my nose? I have a nose! Smells. That smells, that. Gee, that smells. Smells quite nice. I think I might eat it. I might eat that. Hmm. Wonder if that tastes nice. I’ll eat that. It smells. Gee, it’s cold. Hmm, tastes nice. That tastes yummy. I’m hungry. I wish I could eat something. I haven’t eaten in days. I don’t think I’ve eaten in a while. Might eat those. Gee, it’s cold. That tasted nice. I really should eat something. Yum. I really am a bit hungry. That was nice. Rocks everywhere. God, I’m high up. Yum. That’s nice. High here. What’s that? High up here. I want to go real high today. I haven’t eaten in a while. Big jump, hey? If I jump big I’ll make it. Cold. I want to get out of here. Big jump’ll do it. Jump, hey? Dare me?
Who are you? Have you always been here? Who are you? Dare me to jump? Who are
you? Have you always been here? Huh? Oh, right. Why don’t you speak? Look at me when I talk to you! Talk to me. Jump up high. Too cold here. I don’t know why I’m not hungry. Big jump’ll  do it. Hey, that was interesting. Hmm, feels strange. Can’t move. Hmm, strange. I wonder if I can move? Can I move? Can’t move. I can’t move. Reckon I can move. That stings. That hurts. I think I can move. What’s wrong? I feel funny. I reckon I can move. I wonder if I’ve eaten in a while. Hmm, black. What’s that noise? I’ve never heard something so loud! Gee, that’s a loud noise. I wonder if I can move. I reckon I can move.
 
 

What do you do if your only friend in the world dies? What do you do if your only friend is your fish? How do you treat dead fish? And what about that lie - Fish Heaven? There’s no fish heaven. Fish die - and just die - and that’s it. So why do we tell children about a Fish Heaven? It’s a lie, and that’s not fair.

Fish don’t even think - don’t even know that death exists - probably don’t even know that they’re alive. Probably just slightly aware of it. They have absolutely no idea that there’s anything beyond the rocks and the water and the shiny, thin platelets of food scattered across their ceiling.

That’s their world. A little world within ours. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just a fish in an aquarium and that there’s a whole other world somewhere - this one just sitting on a table within another.

My brother’s fish died today. It jumped out of its tank. It must’ve decided it’d just had enough. My brother found it keeled over on his desk. Poor little bugger. He was so upset.

We buried him. Flushing him wouldn’t do him justice. Because he was a good fish, we placed him on some cotton wool and buried him inside a matchbox coffin. He deserved that.

My brother asked what we’d do with the remaining food. I said we’d get another fish and that there was always Zelda (that’s the other fish. Willie was the one who died). My brother said no and then called Uncle Roger and asked him to come and take Zelda to his house - Uncle Roger always had his eyes on Zelda, he called her a “sexy fish.”
My brother said he didn’t want any more fish - they just die. Poor little bugger.