She opened her eyes startled to see a folded note on
the pillow beside her instead of the dead goldfish
had embalmed the night before, her former companion of
many years. She thought it a dream, perhaps, as she
lived alone and such a thing could not possibly
happen. She closed her eyes again and suddenly sat up
gasping for air
upon realizing it was no illusion --
he was indeed stolen from his tiny coffin
put many hours into carving that coffin by hand and
painting intricate sickening swirls
. He was gone. He
He was gone.
She let out a blood curdling scream.
She stood on her bed, back pressed against the wall in
fear, and looked at what could only be a ransom note.
In blood red ink the Christian fish was drawn out.
Fighting paralysis, she kneeled down to examine the
note closer. The paper appeared to be recently
handmade with what she soon realized was fish food
pressed into it. She screamed again and cried for a
moment, forced out of her delirious daze by the
realization that someone had been in her home.
And - He was gone.
She lifted up the paper which seemed oddly heavy, and dared to unfold it.
She blacked out instantly.
Fish scales make for nice collages, apparently.
This one spelled out "Love, FishyPoo."
She woke up to a darkened room, the note clenched in
her hand, and she resolved that it should be framed
and hung up in her living room. It was a lovely
gesture on the creator's part, and was indeed a much
cleaner tribute to him, her beloved former companion.
"I love it," she said, the corners of her eyes
welling with tears as happy memories swam through her
She decided she would have salmon for dinner.
He was gone.