The Dance

The brush of the brush gradually floating ever changing across the dappled dim floor made a kind of quieting song. One many would consider a repetitive or maybe dull irritation, however Sam thought it was noteworthy in its effortlessness.

The well used bristles slid so without a hitch, murmuring to an immortal musicality, diverting the flotsam and jetsam of life. It was the soundtrack to Sam's little piece of this world.

It was the sound of safety. It was the sound of cash, hard procured. The fact that staved off forlornness makes it the sound.

Also, he would never again hear it after the day's end.

He was excessively old, they said. He was beginning to miss things. His hearing was going. His visual perception was falling flat. They expressed a wide range of things, however not a single one of them held a lick of truth. The Chief's nephew required a task, and Sam was replaceable.

It didn't make any difference he'd been utilized at the aquarium for a large portion of his grown-up life. It had no effect that he never missed a day of work. He didn't make any difference. Not to them.

The conclusion of the following couple of hours set in, taking his breath from his lungs, and the brush eased back to an end. Sam grasped the tip of the long handle with his well used palms, leaning his brow against them. His eyes pressed shut as they welled with unshed tears.

He let himself know he won't do this. They could drive him out, yet they couldn't pick how he managed it. He was attempting to recollect that, he truly was.

His dad's words continued to murmur in his ears on rehash, asking him to tune in.

Child, I will let you know something that will see you through life as we know it. A man's place in this world is much of the time beyond his control. Beneficial things will go along and make you need to move for happiness. Terrible things will as well, and those might make you stagger. In any case, regardless, you can pick how you go on.

Sam hurriedly cleaned at his eyes, his spine fixing. He expected to shake off this despairing.

He glanced around at the clear tones and the undulating water that spoke home to him. The jams in their fantastic, floor-to-roof tanks moving to a melody he felt down to his bones.

He begrudged them. How simple life may be without a heart to hurt. A mind to feel the sting of disloyalty. Lungs to load up with quiet shouts.

Continuously outwardly, thoroughly searching in. Sam contemplated whether that is the way the ocean animals felt. It was a straightforward matter of point of view, yet had such a significant effect.

He'd been going after throughout the previous few weeks to envision what his days would resemble without the shelter of this watery asylum. Furthermore, he proved unable. He just proved unable.

His confined loft previously felt void in the couple of hours he spent there when he wasn't working. No kids, no kin, guardians passed on. There were a couple of neighbors he managed everything well with, yet he wouldn't call them companions.

No, his genuine companions lived in a world he could notice. Be that as it may, they generally tuned in. They won't ever pass judgment.

He murmured and sang while they swam along next to him.

He spun his brush, coasting across the room like Fred Astaire, and to him, they acclaimed.

Everything he could ever want, his second thoughts, his longings, they consumed everything like wipes, never letting on they held his mysteries.

It couldn't end like this.

He wouldn't let it.

Mind made, Sam set his brush against the far wall and plunked down on the seat implied for guests.

He attracted a full breath, letting it out leisurely, then twisted to loosen his shoes.

* * *

"Mr. Sam, you in here?" Xavier called. Where could that old fogy have been?

This idiotic aquarium creeped him out around evening time. That multitude of sets of eyes unblinking, gazing at him any place he went. On the off chance that he didn't require this task to keep him out of prison, he could at absolutely no point ever gone to here in the future.

As Xavier moved to turn on the elevated lights, an enormous shadow lingered in his fringe. "Gah!" he wheezed, grasping his chest. "You inept, freak-ass beasts!"

Fortunately, it was just those imbecilic jellyfish.

Pause, for what reason would they say they were all drifting together? He remained there a second attempting to make out how the situation was playing out. The peculiar sight drew him increasingly close until he was right against the glass.

And afterward it clicked.

They were encompassing a human structure spread out on the lower part of the tank dressed in a dull green uniform.

Xavier stood entranced by the dreary scene working out before him, incapable to turn away.

The vivid multitude moved forward and backward like moving to a tune that played exclusively for them. Their long stinging arms ignoring ashy skin, causing the steel silver hair of Sam's cadaver to move and influence.

It was somewhat peculiarly gorgeous.

He contemplated whether there was any individual who might miss the elderly person. And afterward reality came crashing in.

Xavier was avoiding prison just barely. It wouldn't look great on the off chance that he was tracked down here with a dead body.

He turned quickly, moving back through the frightfully lit room, passing on Sam to his last dance.