all of her goldfish died she bought one each day at the exotic pet shop filled with fish who eat fish she put the stranger in a bowl watched it swim around went to class came back finding the fish floating motionless at the top dead each day so she gave up fish for plants placed in her window they reached for the sun gracefully willing and as if pulled madly trembled, withered, wandered toward death as if strangled by some invisible plant canceler oblivious to all this she grasped my trusting hand and led me to her dormitory bed and in the morning wondered why i hadn't died. -- douglas brent smith