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Love and hugs to this beautiful day of the week.
Warm thoughts. Simple lazing about. Wearing PJs all day long. Yes!
That’s the life. Tra–la–la–la–la.
I watch the sun’s rays prance about the room. The fronds of the palms gently brush against the window pane.
The pile of puffed up pillows, all comfy, tantalisingly invite me back to bed.
Oh, such sweet surrender!
I close my eyes. Basking in the silence. I embrace the peace and quiet. And, breathe.
My eyes snap open, wide. My mouth, agape.
Like a bolt out of the blue, a deafening clamour rudely interupts my peaceful state.
High-pitched, panicked shrieks. Wild thudding about of flapping flip-flops. Chaos, crescendo-ing with a medley of screams ‘n shouts of: “Dead!”, “Dead!” and “Dead!”
I jump up and kangaroo-hop out of the room.
Si, drama muchas in the house.
I survey the scene in front of me.
Mum sobbing away. Her eyes puffy, red-rimmed, along with a Rudolph-hued nose, sniffling away.
Shocked. Concerned. I query the reason for the outburst.
Oui, Monsieur Poirot, the mystery unfolds.
Where? Who? How? And, why?
Sam the cook aka the narrator, reveals all. The incident details, I meant. *mal does an eye roll*
A catastrophic calamity has happended in the aquarium.
One dead fish. Corpse lying behind air filter. Presumed…er…drowned?
Beep-Beep. SOS. Au secours!
Emergency Service’s Doc Mal is called in. (That’s yours truly). With help from her devoted assistant Sam (aka The Cook), they discover that the cheeky goldfish was fooling about behind the air filter, when the entrapment occurred.
No, peeps, no! Not the Sean Connery kind of entrapment. Hey! Guys! Quit the guffaws. We’re talking about fish here.
innocent poor, stupid goldfish became entangled in the tentacles of the plants, just behind the air filter. And, yes. Tentacles, I said. You know, the long spindly leaves of reeds? Duh. So, wipe that smirk off your face.
sweet refrain cacophony of “Please release me, let me go,” gurgles and bubbles to the surface. The prisoner wriggles and jiggles. The shackles, tight and taut. The gills, huffing and puffing.
Need I remind, you guys, I said gills, not girls? Sigh. *mal does another eye roll*
The minutes tick on by.
Eventually, the captive is released….through a very delicate operation, conducted by a couple of extremely competent elite forces. (Yeah, eat your heart out, Arnie baby).
…to cut a long
tail tale short – Mum is okay, and smiling away.
All fish are fine, and swimming away.
Mal’s deputy is back at his work place (aka The Kitchen), chopping away. (BTW, Mum cancelled the day’s special of Curried Fried Fish).
Well, since the goldfish (aka The Stupid Fish) spoilt her day….she might kill it herself, one day. Or, maybe not.
She probably won’t. Ever. Never. Nay, no way, Jose. Period. Full stop.
Because… *and with a glint in her eye* .. Mal remarked:
“There are plenty more fish in the sea.”
Maloquacious © 2016