The Goldfish Bowl

Elena stood in the kitchen, staring at the wilting spinach in her colander. Three days past prime, much like her marriage. She'd bought it for the salad she never made, the dinner she'd planned when Mark still came home before midnight.

The goldfish bowl sat on the counter, its orange inhabitant circling endlessly in cloudy water. 'Barnaby,' she whispered, though she couldn't remember which of them had named him. Probably Mark, back when they still named things together—back when they were still a they.

Her iPhone buzzed against the granite. Another Slack notification. Work always knew where to find her, unlike her husband.

She grabbed her hat from the hook—a vintage cloche she'd worn at their wedding rehearsal, now crushed from years of neglect. The brim was fraying, much like her patience. She'd worn it hoping it would make her feel like the woman she'd been then: hopeful, luminous, certain.

Instead, she felt like the goldfish. Swimming in circles, forgetting what she'd just seen, living in water that grew murkier by the day.

Mark's key scraped in the lock. Elena watched the goldfish pause, suspended, as if sensing the shift in atmospheric pressure.

'Hey,' he said, not looking at her. He dropped his keys in the bowl—a different bowl—already scrolling through his phone.

'I made plans,' she said, her voice sounding like someone else's. 'For Saturday.'

He looked up, eyes flickering with something between annoyance and exhaustion. 'With whom?'

'With myself.' She touched the wilted spinach. 'I'm going away.'

The goldfish swam to the surface, mouth opening and closing in silent words.

'Away?' Mark pocketed his phone. 'Like, a weekend?'

'Like, away.' Elena adjusted her hat, suddenly straighter. 'The spinach is dead, Mark. And I can't live in this water anymore.'

He stared at her, really looked at her, for the first time in months. Behind him, the goldfish nosed the glass, seeking something beyond its bowl.

'I'll feed him while I'm gone,' she said softly. 'But I'm not sure I'm coming back.'

The silence stretched between them, taut and trembling. Elena waited, surprised to find she wasn't holding her breath anymore.