Where's my Goldfish Pt.1
A mother had come asking for his help, the male had been caring for the flora in his Grandmother florist store when the lady had come in distress. The situation had been explained with great emotion and enough tears to refill a dried pond. The young daughter of a quiet family had been due to come home later in the day, when her fish had passed away about an hour before. The mother wanted him to help her child get over the death of a pet when she would get home from school in a few hours. Not being one to not accept a job as simple and safe as this his fingers rested on the petal. To lose a pet was a part of growing up for most children, it showed a young one that life was important and that pets often fell sick or died if you were to neglect them. Basket in hand the wind and trees voiced their sadness for a child who would soon weep.
Receptive and welcoming the parents had showed him to the daughter's room. Fish had been carefully wrapped then placed in the freezer, water sloshed onto the grass outside, contents of a fishbowl had been removed and he sat carefully in the sunlight on the back porch with a bucket of water, the little glass bowl had cleared up nicely, no bubbles were present, but the warmth of the water and a good polish with a cloth had brung out the shine in the bowl. Hesitant to leave the warmth of the water his eyes saddened as it slithered down the drain. Fluff from the towel stuck to his hands, the bowl left to dry he had stepped inside. The offer of a cup of tea had been declined. Seating himself on a sheepskin rug he lifted the corner from the basket. Refreshing scents draped a blanket of floral smells around him, lots of flowers had been put in the basket, little flowers that were too small, or flowers which wouldn't get used from his grandmother shop. Nible his fingers dashed back and forth, assorted and categorized by the colour of the petals he had the little bowl next to him. Clean water filled the bottom quarter, plucked carefully petals floated down, a hurricane of petals had formed as he plucked away at a speed that would have astonished. The layers of petals on top of the water had built up and grown, large rose petals on the bottom had kept it light whilst now he had moved onwards to the smaller daisy petals.
The child had been spotted down the block, the bowl of watery petals had been set on top of a little chest, while the fish had been laid to rest on its bed of petals. The conversation would be awkward, a stranger telling a child that their fish had died would be heartbreaking. Would it not be better to hear it from her parents? No matter, a little sigh and ruffling his hair cleared his mind up. He had been given the job to do.
The young child had been welcomed into the house, the school bda had thumped quietly as it had been shrugged off onto the floor.
The conversation had gone as one would have expected, she had cried, tears and bloomed forth and a red tinge broke out with her emotions. They had sat outside with the bowl of petals and fish. The sun had come close to setting and now a blanket rested around their shoulders as she remembered sweet memories of her fish.
A slight stream cut through the garden, pets had swung and billows, they had dived under and sprung back when the young lady had tipped everything into the stream. The Fish would swim amongst flower petals on its way to heaven. Thankful as ever the parents had invited him to dinner, hand waved in declinement. Grandmother would have prepared a nice dinner for him.
Word Count: 665
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