In a small pond @ Firewords

Issue 6 // Secrets

His gills gave him away – he could barely breathe in the office. Between ten and twelve each day, when the sun was just right, I saw him in the reflection on my screen. He was a ghost on my desktop, faded, with emails from clients running through him. He hunched everywhere he went as if the world was too small for him. He thought no-one was watching – but I was. I couldn’t help it.

On his last day, he picked up a glass of water and I knew what he was about to do…

To read more, go to Firewords.co.uk.

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