A Day In The Life Of A Trout

As told by an anonymous trout, of course.

I wake up in the morning early, before the space ships arrive. It is my favorite time of day, the morning. A peaceful time that would garner meditation if my mind did not flash forward to what may await me as the sun moves across the sky. I float on, unable to control the future, all the while, dreading it. The only thing that soothes and distracts the endless worry is the promise of breakfast. I go to my new favorite spot for the last time, although it will only be my third time there. The aliens are smart and they will find me; my life is worth more than the comfort that familiarity brings.

This place in particular, “Rocky Pines Grove” is an all-time favorite. It is calm and unassuming, causing me to risk a third visit instead of saying goodbye on the second. The decorative rocks coupled with the trees above that provide shadow I love so dearly as I eat my breakfast. I reach up as soon as my breakfast floats by and grab it. I eat it in an embarrassing haste. It is a bad habit I have acquired.

I begin to to feel strong, when everything suddenly gets colder. I look to my right, a dark shadow comes towards me. I have been found, they have changed their schedules to fit mine. How considerate. I scurry just as fast as I can when plop! Right in front of me is the most magnificent thing I have ever seen: beautiful and delicious, I can hardly resist.

It puts me in a trance, I can not control my own body as I begin to approach this alarming perfection. I move slowly, dancing with it as it sways its hips from side to side. I increase my speed and I have it! I have it and oh dear god, it hurts. This beauty thrust me out of my world into a new one and I can barely breathe. Everything looks so still except for my pulsating breast, disoriented from an invisible force brushing up against me. Familiar like water but with less weight, this new force is not kind.

Finally, my sweet is taken from my mouth and the pain subsides, although now I feel empty and remain breathless. When I’m able to see more clearly (that is, more calmly, for I still can barely understand what my vision tells me), I notice I am being held by a strange alien. I have only heard tales of them but here I am. It is confirmed: I had been hiding for purpose and not paranoia, a fact that comforts this pain.

Tim Marshall

Brendan Marshall

 

The alien is now making strange noises and gesturing at another whom resembles it quite closely. The other takes out a black square, points it at me and I hear a “click”. I gasp again, as I thrash unwillingly. I heard thrashing extends the experience. The other moves the square closer, showing the one holding me, the insides of the strange object. Why I have to be here for this boggles my mind but suddenly, I am soaring through the air. I gasp and thrash and gasp and thrash until…plop! I can breath again. I am still short of breath but manage to scurry away. I find the comfort of a new corner. I feel an emptiness I had not felt before but I will not be eating any more flies. At least not today.

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