
In response to Stein Writing’s
Simply 6 Minutes – Challenge: 05/23/2023
I am a goldfish, I’m orange but I’m called a goldfish, instead of an orange- fish. I suppose I’d be rounder and look more like an orange from one of those green trees up on dry land. Sometimes the big, round orange fruit things roll down the hill and into the water; we all get to have some nibbles when that happens. The best part is in the middle, so I always volunteer to go last in line.
There’s nothing golden about me though. My parents had hoped for a bigger, stronger fish I think. They are trying to force me into being something I’m not by strapping this shark fin to my back. Yes, it’s also a floaty. You see, I’m a gold, orange-fish that can not swim. Every time I try, I float up to the surface on my side! I can not stay down, nor can I swim straight.
I’m told that if I can’t swim straight and become more like a shark, I will never make anything of myself. Yet, I like being a lopsided orange-fish who can’t swim straight.
Why can’t they just let me, be me?
