one

fishes are really just birds with gills. this is why they never look happy in aquariums.

a goldfish spends eight hours a day staring at a wall because clouds are hard to forget.

it started with a bird deciding to not be a bird anymore because flying became an activity that humans do for fun, instead of what it used to be: a measure of freedom.

flying was a respectable art form. hollow-bone-owners were the artists. to be a flyer, you had to be a fully-grown, medically-fit, thoroughly-trained avian; not some malnutrition-ed billboard advertisement.

flying was a serious business. up until humans came along.

wings became "those funny things on airplanes," skyscrapers "the ones with sky as the limit," and birds... well, they got no say on the matter. beaks had become radomes, you see! how was a bird to talk?

two

"is that a bird?" inquired a baby chick, from her home. they had seen her kind before but never interacted.
"is that a plane?" asked another baby chick, also from his home.

together, they asked things aloud that never elicited a response.

home is a 4'' x 4'' cube where food and comfort (and sometimes family) is found. it is slightly beyond the reach of baby humans who like to poke you around because they haven't seen your kind before. or they've run out of toys. either way, humans are stupid.

"no, it's a fucking fish, dammit! i left the sky for this!" replied the fish from the aquarium. "water is my home now that i've grown gills. the ocean is where i now pay my bills."

"no swearing in the house," alarmed the father of the house.

he's a human the way a lot of fathers usually are when you're behind the glass walls or confined to large wooden cubes. his kids are expanding their vocabulary day-by-day, learning words from goodness-knows-where, faster than what he can keep up with. and no, he cannot hear animals talking. that'd be stupid. animals don't talk. only humans get to do that.

the elder sibling was caught in the middle of making a "your mom" joke, forgetting that they share parents — or more importantly, that the father was around this time. he operates on the "it's not a theft if you're not caught" principle. most of the people i've seen do.

the father had had their attention for exactly two seconds.

in kid-years, that's too long. a distraction of nanoseconds can cost you a win. and losing... well, is for losers.

they returned back to ignoring him. that's one of the few things they are very good at. trying to kill each other over a toy keeps them engaged in a way nothing else does. it stimulates exactly the right parts of their brain and helps with their cognitive development.

"mine!"

"was!"

"first!"

the father sighed. fathers spend a significant fraction of their lives sighing. science has no definite answer but a few theories as to why, the most acceptable of which is "it's a coping mechanism." the kids were delivered. they cannot be returned because there was no return address on the package. and so, they must be tolerated.

the object in question changed hands several times before changing ownership entirely. gravity did its thing. the toy slipped. i slowed down. watching children discover consequences is my kind of thing. the toy followed a parabolic trajectory because that's what projectiles are good at.

the fish watched it encroach her territory.

the children watched it become not theirs.

the father watched it go where kids cannot step in.

sploosh.

silence followed.

the children are not allowed within the three-foot radius of the aquarium. the mother came up with the rule once. the fish is thankful for that.

this was unusual enough to warrant documentation.

the fish approached cautiously.

it was metallic. it was long. it had a tiny tower sticking out of its back. it didn't look like a fish. it wasn't a fish.

"what's that?" said the fish, slightly curious.

it gets difficult to explain submarines to someone who still thinks clouds are worth remembering.

the toy rested on the bottom of the tank like royalty.

the fish circled it once.

twice.

three times.

"ugly fellow," she concluded.

submarines are famous for offering no defense or caring to stop to think about what a fish thinks of them.

i did not want to be the bearer of the bad news, which is why i did not tell the fish that; and unknown to her, i am keeping myself busy these days filling out "change of careers (revised)" application forms on her behalf.

trivia

q: what's a fish in an aquarium called?
a: that's right. a prisoner.

q: what's a fish in an aquarium with a submarine doing?
a: looking for a job.

q: what is extinction?
a: involuntary retirement.

q: what is evolution?
a: it's what pokemons and languages (and sometimes animals) have in common. those that don't evolve retire involuntarily. fyi, a fossil is a retired employee of evolution.