Life in the bowl is certainly better than in the bag. I used to float there alone, watching as those hooked ducks wandered by, plucked from the water one by one, vanishing, followed swiftly by each of my friends.
Now I have a bridge and a clam.
Life is good.
David studies creative writing and divides his time between walking his dogs and cooking pizza for his wonderful wife.
Feeling down, he decided to go fishing. It wasn’t long before he caught a decent sized fish.
He looked down as it was dying and trying to take breaths, as if underwater.
He picked it up and threw it back. “No reason your fate should be as terrible as mine.”
Connell Wayne Regner had successfully avoided writing creatively since he wrote spontaneous lyrics to music many years ago. Although from a linguistic background, he has serendipitously succumbed to fiction after spontaneously creating bedtime stories for his children. His other dabblings can be found at paragraphplanet and wtdmagazine.wordpress.com.
Dr. Ruination slapped the red button that lowered John Bolt, handsome and impeccably dressed spy, into the huge aquarium.
Bolt found himself afloat in a stagnant pool of foul smelling water, surrounded by decaying fish carcasses.
Dr. Ruination was horrified. “Who turned off the oxygen pump for the barracuda tank?”
This is the second in a series of five stories by King Kool.
It was like a real-world logic puzzle.
Bobby Blowfish should sit with Angela Angelfish, but he and Tommy Tuna don’t get along.
The Seahorse family should be near the dessert table, but keep them away from the punch bowl!
And no one wanted another “who let the orcas in” fiasco.
This story is based on a title suggested by @klancashire.
Gloria was a performer. She’d known it since the day she’d somersaulted out of the egg and into the fish tank with a brilliant smile and a saucy wink.
Now she performed synchronized swimming routines for the world-famous aquatic circus. With fame came fortune: she dined on caviar most evenings.
“So what have we learned today?” said Dan, standing over the aquarium.
“Whatcha doin’?” asked Tara.
“Teaching the fish to speak.”
“Is this some elaborate setup for a pun on how the fish are in ‘school’?”
“No. I’m seriously teaching them.”
“Whatever,” Tara scoffed, leaving.
“Jerk face,” said the fish.