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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1133832-The-Fish
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by Frieda Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Monologue · Animal · #1133832
A brief story about my husband, separated, and his fish
The fish became overwhelmingly important, one morning. Probably because everything was going wrong, and had gone wrong, and would continue to go wrong, so naturally, the fish were no exception.
I started around eight, I didn’t have a watch on so I don’t remember the exact time, which was too bad because I was trying to keep everything about the fish precise and recorded , so I could tell about it later. I imagined myself saying to my friends “I started at eight twenty and finished before ten, it took less than two hours. I imagined their faces, how impressed they’d be that I could clean a ninety gallon aquarium in about an hour and a half.
At first it was going good. My methods were organized and they were paying off. I lined the buckets up and emptied the water out , carrying them two by two to the tub. After I had emptied precisely twenty buckets the precision broke down. I decided to defy my husband and add a gravel bottom to the aquarium., I deduced that the gravel that he had left in the big bucket in the other room was recently washed and clean. Oh why did I think so. I added the gravel. It was very pretty, a natural beige, with larger and smaller sized rocks and sand. This would be very good forming a natural filter and the I wouldn’t have to clean it so much. With my husband gone, I had to clean all the fish.
Next step was refilling the water. This was more strenuous than emptying. The full buckets had to be lifted about shoulder level to be thrown back at the fish. Buckets could only be so full to allow lifting, and more trips, about twice as many had to be made. I wondered about how Pablo had kept himself busy all these ten months of our marriage cleaning the fish.
I was sweating fiercely when I poured the last bucket in and I was just about to check the time when I looked at the tank and gasped Oh no little white stringy things floating in the water. Pablo’s going to kill me and he had said that he would. The gravel must have had some kind of parasite and Pablo was right he didn’t want gravel. What could I do? I began calling numbers. Miguel couldn’t come over till this afternoon. I must act more quickly. I called the expensive Pet Store.
They helped me I went there and bought pills and charcoal I came home again with a strategy. I’d change the fuval filter first. Again mistakes ensued. Water poured all over the livingroom floor. When I got that under control I jammed the foam cartridge into the filter case. I was really sweating again really tearing out my hair and really going crazy. I’ve wreaked Pablo’s filter and killed his fish, and I deserve to die, like he says. Through my sweat tears I called the expensive Pet Store again.
They said they could send Johan over for twenty-five dollars. I barely had two nickels to rub together but considering the circumstances, they were Pablo’s fish and I’ll probably never see him again, if I’m that lucky. I said yes, send him send him.
He came he fixed and it was amazing how simple it was. The fish are recovering nicely. I guess they don’t miss Pablo. After all I felt like I did missed him a little bit. I began to wonder if I would ever see him again. So I called his cell phone and left a message, all I said was . I’m taking care of the fish.
© Copyright 2006 Frieda (patricia at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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