Poisson

There is a small white Ann Taylor box resting its pristine self on my kitchen counter top, next to the sink and the remainder of the chocolate merangue pie I made yesterday.

I looked in the box, wondering what could possibly be in it, maybe a pin or a bedazzled hair accessory. At the very least a long lost bobby pin vault.

I peered in and cocked my puzzled head to the side as my mind tried to register this box's contents. What immediately came to mind was a thick smear of blue oil paint, but after a few seconds of deliberation, the truth was undeniably clear.

This box, which once held something beautiful, is now the final resting place of Adrienne's beta fish, Blitzen. 

My sister is completely opposed to the common practice of flushing deceased fish down the toilet. Tomorrow Blitzen the beta fish will be buried in our backyard, in his white jewelry box, next to Mork the cat, Flit and Tweety the parakeets, and Sweetie the cockatiel. 

My sister and I are very, very different people. She's only 11, but she never ceases to amaze me.

I guess, to her, the box still holds something beautiful.