The Goldfish at the Wake

The funeral home smelled of lilies and carpet cleaner. Elena stood near the back, nursing a glass of lukewarm chardonnay, watching colleagues from the accounting department pretend to grieve for Marcus. He'd been dead three days and they were already discussing who'd get his corner office.

She'd barely known Marcus. They'd exchanged maybe forty words in two years—mostly about printer jams and coffee refills. But here she was, because her manager had insisted on 'team solidarity.' Elena pulled her iPhone from her purse, checking for escape routes. Any message from anyone would be justification to leave.

'You're not checking email, are you?'

Elena looked up. A man in a wrinkled linen suit stood beside her, clutching a fedora hat like it contained something fragile. 'Marcus's brother,' he added. 'David.'

'Just checking the time,' she lied.

'Right.' David's laugh was dry. 'He hated funerals. Said they were like performance art for people who couldn't process emotions normally.' He gestured with the hat. 'I'm supposed to scatter his ashes tomorrow, but he left instructions for something else first.'

Elena found herself intrigued despite herself. 'Something else?'

'His goldfish. Named it Enlightenment. Can you believe that?' David's voice cracked. 'He was more devastated when that fish died last year than when our mother passed. Said the fish had been a better listener.'

'That's oddly specific,' Elena said.

'Marcus was specific.' David set the hat on a table. 'He made me promise to flush Enlightenment down the toilet at his own memorial service. Said he wanted someone to finally properly mourn something that mattered.' He looked around the room, at coworkers Marcus had despised, now pretending to care. 'What's the etiquette for flushing a dead goldfish during a eulogy, anyway?'

Elena smiled, genuinely now. 'I'll help you distract them.'

'You would?' David studied her. 'We just met.'

'Sometimes,' Elena said, 'that's enough. Marcus had better taste in friends than he did in coworkers.' She raised her glass. 'To Enlightenment.'

'To Marcus,' David corrected.

'To both.' Elena checked her iPhone again—no new messages, no urgent demands. 'And to whatever comes next.'

Outside, the rain had started. They left together, David still holding his hat like it held all his brother's unspoken words. In the parking lot, Elena took his arm. 'I know a place that does very good fish and chips,' she said. 'We could toast Enlightenment properly.'

David's smile was real this time. 'I'd like that.'

Neither of them mentioned that they were strangers who would probably never see each other again after today. Some connections weren't meant to last—they just needed to happen.