Lightning at the Goldfish Pool

Margaret stood at the edge of the pool, her martini sweating in the humidity. The engagement party was in full swing behind her, but she couldn't stop watching the way lightning fractured the sky—great purple wounds across the belly of the clouds.

"You've been out here twenty minutes," Richard said, appearing beside her with two fresh drinks. "People are asking about the promotion."

"Let them ask." She took the glass without looking at him. "Did you know goldfish have a three-second memory? Sarah told me that yesterday. She's excited about the wedding registry."

Richard laughed, that sharp barking sound she used to find charming, now like a dog that won't stop yapping at nothing. "That's a myth, actually. They remember for months. Which is convenient, really."

"For what?"

"For forgetting what you want to forget."

The first drop of rain hit the pool's surface, creating concentric circles that destroyed each other. Margaret's phone vibrated—her mother, again. The family betting pool on when Richard would cheat again was now taking odds on when she'd finally leave him.

"I saw you with her," she said quietly. "At the Christmas party. By the appetizers."

Richard went still. The lightning struck closer, illuminating the way his smile faltered at the edges. "Margaret—"

"Don't. Just..." She watched the rain begin to fall in earnest, distorting the reflection of the party lights in the pool water. "I keep thinking about those goldfish. Imagine living in a bowl, swimming the same circles, thinking everything is new because you can't remember you've already been there."

"Is that what you think we are?" His voice cracked.

"I think." She set her glass on the concrete edge. "I think I'm done swimming in circles."

She walked back toward the party, toward Sarah and the registry and the congratulations she didn't deserve. Behind her, Richard stood alone in the rain as the lightning finally struck—transformer down the street, darkness swallowing the whole neighborhood, and for the first time in seven years, everything was perfectly clear.