What Floats, What Sinks

David pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the aquarium, watching the goldfish drift through its neon-lit purgatory. The fish—his daughter's prize from the fair last summer—swam the same lazy circles, its orange scales flashing like forgotten promises. Sarah had left for college three months ago, leaving behind the fish, her childhood bedroom frozen in time, and David alone with his wife in a house that felt too large for the silence filling it.

The golden retriever, Buster, nosed David's hand, his muzzle now dusted with gray. Fifteen years of loyalty measured in slow breaths and arthritic mornings. David scratched behind the dog's ears, feeling the thinning fur, the fragile heartbeat beneath.

"You and me both, buddy," David murmured.

At forty-seven, David had become what his younger self would have called a zombie: someone who showed up, smiled the right smiles, said the right things, while something essential hollowed out inside. The corporate presentations, the quarterly reviews, the polite conversations at dinner parties—he performed them all with the mechanical precision of the undead. His marriage had settled into comfortable parallel lines, like two ships passing in the night, signaling occasionally but never docking.

The goldfish surfaced, mouth opening and closing in silent O's, begging for food that wouldn't come. David watched it sink slowly back into the darkness of the plastic castle.

His phone buzzed—a message from Sarah, something about midterms and missing home. David stared at the screen, feeling the weight of everything he couldn't say. The words floated there, electronic and distant, while something in him stirred, fighting against the numbness.

Buster whined softly, and David realized tears were tracking down his cheeks. He wasn't dead inside. He was just lonely, and maybe that was worse.

The goldfish swam toward the glass, its tiny eye meeting his. Life, stubborn and inexplicable, persisting in its small wet universe. David stood, joints popping, and reached for the fish food.

"Alright," he said aloud. "Alright."