Fish Lips
A few weeks ago, Dani and I did a writing exercise of my own creation. Just for fun, you know. It was this: Write a 101 word story (exactly!) using the first line, "I think that someday you will probably forgive me for drowning your goldfish."
I post, for your entertainment and our arrogant pleasure, the results.
Dani's Story:
I think that someday you will probably forgive me for drowning your goldfish. When you do, please send a postcard. I want you to know, that I know, that Fish forgot immediately about bobbing belly up in a cookie jar.
I will be waiting to hear from you on the porch I wish I had, the one with fading whitewash and silver slivers not even the dog I don't have can avoid.
The windowsill was a good place for him to see the real world; I had no idea he'd want to throw in the towel, too.
Luke's Story:
I think that someday you will probably forgive me for drowning your goldfish. You’ll wake one morning and recognize your face again, because it isn’t quite so bruised as maybe it used to be.
Someday will belong to you and all future days will belong to you and someday you will know this like the baby Koi fish knows that even though she is not so colorful, and even though she is only one of tens of thousands, she is loved; like the Turritopsis knows that there is still beauty in the world, no matter how many times he is reborn.
