the prudence of living a flexible life


there was a fish who swam in mashed potatoes. he used to swim in jello pudding, but then he had a baby and had to give it up. he burped little white bubbles of potato. it was calming to him. it was calming to his wife. the entire town was a calm town in a bowl of mashed potatoes.

but faces were unrecognizable under all that whiteness. every fish he passed on his lap around the bowl could be a stranger or a close friend and it was hard to tell the difference. so he treated each fish equally, he greeted them the same. the other fish did too and this was calming too.

then one day the fish lost its baby -- easy to lose a baby when you swim through mashed potatoes. so thick, so impenetrable. his wife sobbed for days and the swimming became easier in that side of the bowl, the potatoes thinned somewhat.

the fish decided to try to find the little flipper. he let out all his air and dove down deep, down past the thinner, butterier potatoes, down to where the butter never seeped. such hard work, flippering through solid mass. here little one, he wanted to call, but he was too afraid to make a sound noise. he kept moving instead in the kind of fear that propels movement, but after once around the bowl you have forgotten that you swam that part already because the fear gathers up those memory cells and removes them to a hell of their own.

at the bottom of the bowl he found a lump. hello, tommy! is it you, tommy? he cradled the potatoey bundle between his fins and closed his eyes in relief. at last i have found you. and he swam back up through the potatoes which was no easy feat, holding as he was, his son between his flippers.

when he came to the side of the bowl where his wife still sat diluting the potatoes with her salty tears, he proudly held out his fins. look, dear, who i found! and his wife blinked herself alert and took one look at the lump and said, oh, my little darling, and she held it fast.

and the fish slept well that night holding between them the lump. and while neither of them said a word, each decided on its own not to tell the other that the lump was just a lump and not their baby fish at all.

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