Fish are friends, not food.

“Look, Papa! I can jump really high!”

A beautiful fish the color of rusty fall foliage jumped out of the water and landed with a playful splash. It gracefully swirled into circle after circle and jumped again with another burst of water.

“Aren’t you going to join me?”

“Ok, Son.”

The bigger fish swirled into view and disappeared again behind a pile of old rubbish. He poked his navy blue head out and took a loop around the pile and again. “Come catch me!”

A game of tag as boisterous as though an entire school of fish were playing broke out. Up, down, in, out, over, under… but all the while closer to the heart of the other. Inseparable, thick as thieves… father and son.

“Papa, you’re the best fish I knowed! We’re best friends!”

“That’s right, Son, we are.”

It’s truly amazing what two wash rags can become in the bathtub.


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