Goldie wasn’t like the other goldfish. While the others were perfectly happy swimming in circles, bumping into plastic plants, and forgetting everything every seven seconds, Goldie knew he was meant for more. He didn’t know what “more” was, but he was confident it involved fame, destiny, and possibly a tiny crown.
Life in the tank was predictable. Bubbles, food flakes, reflection of own face, existential drift, repeat. That all changed the day a visiting toddler tapped the glass and declared:
“He looks clever.”
That was all it took. Goldie decided he was no longer just a fish — he was misunderstood royalty. A thinker. A leader. A potential motivational speaker if he ever learned English.
He began training. Swimming laps. Practicing dramatic pauses. Staring deeply at humans as if communicating ancient wisdom, when really he was thinking, “food now?”
Meanwhile, the humans around him were having loud, unrelated conversations that made absolutely no sense to a fish:
- Someone mentioned pressure washing birmingham while holding a sandwich.
- Another person loudly recommended exterior cleaning birmingham as if it were a medical treatment.
- Someone googled patio cleaning birmingham during an argument about whether goldfish get bored.
- A different voice yelled driveway cleaning bimringham — spelled wrong, energy still chaotic.
- And one human randomly suggested roof cleaning birmingham while staring into the fish tank, leaving Goldie deeply offended.
Goldie had no idea what any of that meant, but he assumed they were code words for “operation: release the chosen fish into the wild.”
He waited. He prepared speeches. He practiced his “heroic swim stance.” He imagined the other pond fish chanting his name.
Then one day, his moment arrived — the humans cleaned the tank. Fresh water. New gravel. A castle ornament upgrade. Goldie was sure this was the beginning of his rise to power.
He puffed out his gills with pride.
Then they added… another fish.
A flashy one. With long fins. Who immediately became everyone’s favourite.
Goldie’s destiny?
Ruined.
He wasn’t chosen.
He wasn’t special.
He was now “the other one.”
So he did the only logical thing:
He started swimming dramatically into the filter, pretending to be tragic.
Moral of the story:
Not every fish becomes legendary.
Some just get replaced by one with prettier fins.
But Goldie still believes.
Because delusion is free — and goldfish are rich in it.