I lay in the dark with my eyes closed as my beloved rubs his hand lightly across my back. We are silent. The room is silent, save the steady rustle of fans on low that shift the edges of the sheets. The house is silent, save the occasional pacing of a dog on patrol. A film begins to play on the inside of my closed but awake and alert eyelids: like a home movie re-discovered, it flickers. It’s my dad. As my beloved’s hands travel down my spine and up my side again, I suddenly recall a day, not unlike…
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My suckerfish, (allegedly) properly known as a plecostomus, was not impressed that I was cleaning the tank this morning. If a person wanted to be picky, that person could suggest that the suckerfish had not quite been doing his job because if he had, there would be no need for said person to scrape the sides of the tank.I dared not scrape too close to where he had sucked on but it mattered not. He stayed right there, stuck to the lower north side. Over the past month or so, he has developed a taste for fish flakes; he stays…