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Description
I fell asleep last night next to a dead dead fish floating in an aquarium on my night stand.  I am sure you think that is weird.  The people around these parts think its weird that I have a fish, altogether, but mainly because Ruby was special.  A rare Japanese Fighting Fish, I had him for over two years.  It cost me a plenty and in these times I suppose they thought I was boasting.  The truth is, the cost for Ruby wasn't something I couldn't make up from hocking goods from the Junkyard and nobody seemed to understand the true purpose of Ruby.  Water, rocks, food a few times a week – very peaceful and easy to care for, but bred to fight.  The only thing truly weird thing is that what was bred into Ruby as instinct couldn't help him fight the enemy he encountered.  After two years of sprinkling food and changing a bit of the water out, I came home yesterday to find him lifeless in the tank.  His eyes had turned white and his gills were swollen.  Maybe it is weird, strange, or useless to own such a thing during these times, but Ruby's death meant the water isn't safe for us at the moment to use.

I didn't bother explaining to our council how I knew the water had been infected again, but when the folks in the sector ran a teaspoon through their kits, well, they thanked me.  At the end of the pre-dawn meeting we already scheduled out water reserve rationing.  Since we are now using our water reserves, I couldn't just flush Ruby and besides, it wouldn't seem proper.  He had brought me years of relaxation as I would watch him dance around before my eyelids shut each night.  To make me feel worse for Ruby, I had to bury him beyond the sector early this morning to make sure one of the Guardian's dogs didn't dig it up and fall over dead.  Leave it to some unknown animal to disturb the dead only to become dead.

I told my wife, in passing, that I had said a prayer for Ruby.  She reminded me before I headed to the Junkyard of how weird  the whole 'pet fish' thing was to her, along with praying.  This time, the weirdness wasn't me praying over my Ruby, but that in that moment I was more emotionally attached to that fish than her.  Ruby did the work I had hoped he wouldn't have to and it could have been her ass or one of our kids that drank what is now temporary poison.

Description
I fell asleep last night next to a dead dead fish floating in an aquarium on my night stand.  I am sure you think that is weird.  The people around these parts think its weird that I have a fish, altogether, but mainly because Ruby was special.  A rare Japanese Fighting Fish, I had him for over two years.  It cost me a plenty and in these times I suppose they thought I was boasting.  The truth is, the cost for Ruby wasn't something I couldn't make up from hocking goods from the Junkyard and nobody seemed to understand the true purpose of Ruby.  Water, rocks, food a few times a week – very peaceful and easy to care for, but bred to fight.  The only thing truly weird thing is that what was bred into Ruby as instinct couldn't help him fight the enemy he encountered.  After two years of sprinkling food and changing a bit of the water out, I came home yesterday to find him lifeless in the tank.  His eyes had turned white and his gills were swollen.  Maybe it is weird, strange, or useless to own such a thing during these times, but Ruby's death meant the water isn't safe for us at the moment to use.

I didn't bother explaining to our council how I knew the water had been infected again, but when the folks in the sector ran a teaspoon through their kits, well, they thanked me.  At the end of the pre-dawn meeting we already scheduled out water reserve rationing.  Since we are now using our water reserves, I couldn't just flush Ruby and besides, it wouldn't seem proper.  He had brought me years of relaxation as I would watch him dance around before my eyelids shut each night.  To make me feel worse for Ruby, I had to bury him beyond the sector early this morning to make sure one of the Guardian's dogs didn't dig it up and fall over dead.  Leave it to some unknown animal to disturb the dead only to become dead.

I told my wife, in passing, that I had said a prayer for Ruby.  She reminded me before I headed to the Junkyard of how weird  the whole 'pet fish' thing was to her, along with praying.  This time, the weirdness wasn't me praying over my Ruby, but that in that moment I was more emotionally attached to that fish than her.  Ruby did the work I had hoped he wouldn't have to and it could have been her ass or one of our kids that drank what is now temporary poison.