Tiny Golden Ballerina

Photo by Leman on Unsplash

Tiny golden ballerina.

She shimmies her tail. Sassy. With a jolting wiggle propelling her onward in a burst.

Always moving...always forward. She drifts a glittering diamond suspended in space. Reaching the end of the tank she turns. The dance begins again. With meaningless purpose slowly she makes her way to the other side of the tank past the wrecked ship, past the billowing seagrass and the pebbles that light up the night in iridescence, past her secret fan.

Hour after hour day after day she's the star of the show. He tells himself she wants to be seen. Down the center she glides a flutter of Innocence. He watches from below in murky awe. The highlight of his hours. Wiggle wiggle...but then...a dip in her cadence. Suddenly she's too close to resist. He stakes his claim and as quickly as a breath the shimmer is gone. The dance is done. A somber Silence fills the space and a tiny bundle of whispering guppies above stir restlessly. His ballerina is gone.  He's killed his love. Because... he's a killer and killers kill and ballerinas dance and this is life.