Slipping effortlessly though the watrer, I began to appreciate a form of fins and scales. I enjoyed being a fish, appreciating the freedom I felt as I slid through the water, even if it was in the confines of a huge aquarium.
As I worked my tail and fins, an almost effortless mode of propulsion, my streamlined body shot through the water.
I could have gotten used to this until my stupid kid brother brought an abrupt end to my thrill when he dumped a King Kong-sized fish into the tank.
Our mother had left the room, but my brother lingered, staring through the other side of the glass.
Some of the other small fish in the tank had scattered when the huge lunker was introduced into the aquatic environment. I floated, observing, trying to determine what this new inhabitant might mean to my fun in my new fish form.
"Go on!" My brother seemed to direct his command to the new fish.
Go on? And do what? I had several questions in mind as I wondered when the genie would return.
The huge fish gaped open a truly enormous mouth and rushed at me.
No! I veered out of the way. I felt huge jaws clamp close, just missing my tail fin.
The monster fish had tried to eat me!
My brother's face was virtually smashed against the glass.
"Get him! Eat that little minnow!" He even tapped on the glass to prompt the enormous new fish.
As I tried to register that shock, the huge fish spun out and grabbed another small fish. I saw my fellow tankmate devoured in one gulp.
I saw the huge fish swing around, ready for another go at me.
I saw the huge castle on the colored pebbles below. Maybe I could find shelter there.