Fish In A Bowl (TianShan)

The Merman Beyond The Glass

The merman once had a name, but after almost a hundred years on land, he had forgotten what it was. He had forgotten the voice of the sea and the language of the waters. The Moon called out to him but it was nowhere in sight, its voice faint and weak, asking him why he stopped singing the songs it gifted him.

Did he lose his voice?

Of course he didn't. His voice was his and nothing could ever take it away from him. What he lost was the chance to use it. Nobody spoke to him and he refused to try speaking to anybody. He didn't particularly like the human's way of speaking.

Thank goodness the Old Boy who rescued him saw to it that he ate the best foods and he was incredibly grateful. He was safe, albeit alone, but it was better than being a circus attraction. Remembering his days with the circus made him shudder. It was the worst. He didn't own his body in that place and he was always hungry.

The Old Boy knew him from the circus and he helped him escape to the sea, but before he could go deeper into the ocean, he was caught once again by fishermen. He knew the Old Boy sold a lot of lands just to purchase and hide him. Years passed and his family prospered, and he credited him for bringing him good luck. He thanked him by making sure he's living a good life inside his clean, new habitat.

He became too afraid of the sea that he never wished to be freed.

At first he didn't like the little creature cradled by one of its kind, ogling him with slit eyes on a pair of fleshy cheeks. It was the Old Boy's son's offspring. It was a disgusting thing, hairless and soft and leaking, flashing him a mouthful of gums. He hated how the humans seemed to make it his responsibility to entertain it, knocking on his glass and disturbing his naps to make him swim about and wriggle his ugly tail in front of their ugly faces.

It was disgusting how it would seem to laugh, producing a chortle, making its eyes disappear in the folds of its face like a dead blobfish out of water. The laugh itself was horrendous, especially when it would start blowing on its tongue like a boat engine, sputtering sticky liquid dripping on its tiny, button-like chin.

It grew bigger and it was way worse. It was still attached to its host's body but it was strong enough to slam its sticky hands on his glass. He could hear how its palms squished and he would involuntarily twitch his upper lip in disgust. He wanted to bare his teeth at it and flash the dirty finger. He knew how the dirty finger worked and how it affected the humans like it was a spell to conjure rage. But he might get punished for it, maybe the Old Boy would tell the servant to stop feeding him sturgeon eggs. He particularly loved those.

He wanted to make ugly faces at the creature but knowing how weird it was, he held himself back. They might misinterpret it and think that he's up for the job of making the despicable tumor laugh.

After every visit his glass would look so dirty that he would pout and sulk until the servants would hurriedly wipe everything clean, leaving no evidence of the creature being there.

When the creature grew larger, it finally detached to its host, which was a bigger disaster then because it could run around his tank and chase him. How he hated how it would scream outside his room's door, crying for the Old Boy to let him in. It was such a spoiled brat.

How he hated listening to it cry that it offered him sudden discomfort, and he would catch himself swimming back and forth, wishing for the doors to be immediately opened. He would even braid his hair and rub kelp on his tail to get rid of the water dust that tended to cling to it. How he hated having to make himself presentable for a drooly child!

It was so irritating that he would shoot it piercing glares in hopes of driving it away, but it was a persistent little pest. It would press its hands on the glass with a face that said it didn't want to be anywhere but in that spot, maybe even be inside the tank. Sometimes, its eyes would look about to start leaking the contents of its tiny heart.