I spent many nights watching him swim carefree from one end of the pond to the next. This pond was his entire universe, and the water his breath. Those magnificent protruding eyes on his small, slimy body often made me laugh. “He's looking for craters on the moon,” I would joke with my friends.

This morning, our universes tore apart as I found him on his side, gasping for air. The water that had been his life was now a cage he couldn’t escape. A wave of helplessness crashed over me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Death standing by the pond quietly watching.

“Aren’t you going to help him?” I begged.

Death didn’t answer. He reached into the water, scooped the little fish with tenderness, and waved me over. As I walked over, I made a bowl with my hands, trembling. Death gently lowered the fish into my palms. A waterfall gushed from my eyes, drops hitting his scales. He felt impossibly light with a tiny, fainting heartbeat.

“Be with him,” Death whispered and then faded into darkness.

I cradled him until his last breath. Death reappeared and reached out his hands. I slowly surrendered my friend as they both faded away.