In which our intrepid hero bids farewell to a new friend.

A couple of weeks ago, Mim K/W and I bought a beautiful red Siamese fighting fish, whom we named Eric. He lived in a bowl on Mim K/W’s desk at work, and as we nursed him back to health, the skinny little fish with shredded fins that hid whenever anyone passed by grew into a beautiful, friendly little beast with a prodigious appetite.

We went away to Canberra over the weekend; when we returned to the office this morning, the General Manager told us that he’d found Eric yesterday, on the carpet near the desk, dead. He’d even written a eulogy of sorts, on a Post-It note which he stuck to the desk near Eric’s bowl.

It kind of says something about your work environment when, after two weeks, the office fish tops itself to get away.

I’m going to miss Eric. Smart little bastard.