Zebra Danio

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Little do my captors know what a feat they accomplished in my capture. A previous life involving such great sea adventure has now been reduced to subsistence within this glass containment. May my ancestors and fellow wayfaring captains never realize my doom!

I once swam the coral reefs of the great Indian Ocean and led droves of tropical fish to elude nets at every turn. Our keen senses steered us into the awesome depths, away from the creatures who wished us into the subservience of relatives who were otherwise reduced to a hobby, a child’s folly. Theirs was a fate we all hoped to avoid – living in a young boy’s tank inside a human dwelling instead of our own vast aquatic empire.

Our schools flanked great lionfish and rode the draft of whales and other large marine mammals to catch a ride. We braved their enormity and felt our power at the association.

Alas, I succumbed to this devastating fate. My route is now reduced to circles within a 10-gallon prison, and the continuance of life now depends on TetraColor flakes at daily dispense of a kid. My great humiliation is witnessed through a skewed view of an opaque pane. The light here never dims, and the glare off bright rocks beneath me reflects into my never-closing eyes.

Gunships apparently blew holes into an oceanliner that is now capsized on the bottom. Human lettering emblazoned on its side reads T-I-T-A-N-I-C, surely a sign of its defeat in another location. I will hide in its confines to masquerade my shame — at least until a TetraColor speck sinks down this way.

Indie Chick Lit #GetYourWriteOn prompt:

People think goldfish have boring lives and terrible memories. Write a goldfish adventure that defies both stereotypes.

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