Writing about a solitary confinement survivor

I had seven golden tetras in my aquarium.

One jumped out one night, two succumbed to white-spot parasites, one just wasted away.

Last month, I had three left, swimming strong, flicking their tiny white tipped fins, the black spots on their tail a second eye.

Then suddenly after a weekend vacation, I returned to find only two.

Today while cleaning the aquarium filter, we rescued the third one. He’d been swimming around in a tiny whirling pool of perfect darkness, all by his lonesome self, for a month.

And now, as I type, he’s swimming around in all the light and green and water, just as if he had never been in solitary confinement.

Lesson in there somewhere.

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