Squeak, squeak.
The bell rings.
The crowd sings.
My human waves his hand in the air.
Squeak. Click. Click. Squeak.
A fish.
One fish.
My body is a barrel racing, breaking the thin line between my aquatic home and the fresh air of human.
Whooooooooooosh.
A hope, my equilibrium. A flip. I remember my mouth agape, grabbing the fish from my human's hand with the precision only months of repetition can accomplish.
Splash.
The crowd sings
The bell rings.
One more time.

Stories of the day: