ARCHIVED: A Great Big Fish

The marble-faced floral columns shuddered and an abandoned news page flew into Eugene's face as the next train rumbled alongside the platform.


Putting aside the somewhat crumpled editorial castigating the government's withdrawn policy toward international incidents of recent times, Eugene did not have long to wait. With a *shwump*, the blue doors slid apart, exposing a thicket of fur coats and anoraks... a horde of people embedded within. Standing on the safety line bordering the platform, Eugene found himself shoved forward, then pushed back as a harried-looking woman in a worn pink anorak shoved her way free of the car. A moment later, he was embedded just inside the door.


Eugene considered the imprudence of rising later than half six as the wheeled blue can of people groaned its way out of the station. At least he hadn't waited even five seconds for his train.

A disconcertingly perfect young woman's face stared at Eugene from an advertisement under the ceiling, a slogan written across the vibrant mountain landscape beside her:

A further frown disfigured Eugene's face at this. Even if he could afford their international fares, even if there was such a place somewhere so serene it could be called by the foreigner's invented exemplary land of mystical serenity, there would be no good to visit alone. A bitter dream, when faced with firm reality.

Perhaps the pastry shop under the office and its almond biscuits would make this morning palatable. He could afford that, once in a week...

Julia's kitchen was grey and bare in the dim twilight of dawn. It was also rather cold.

Something was whistling. The teapot was whistling. The teapot was boiling.

The teapot was boiling.

The teapot was boiling! Julia turned off the gas.

Julia had a pot of boiling water. A pot of boiling water...

The shelf above the stove had a jar of instant coffee. That's what the water was for. That's what the little blue bowl on the counter was for, too.

Eugene's little blue bowl.

Julia rubbed her arms together, shivering. It was for the best. He was never going to propose. Never.

Salty coffee did not taste very good.

At least Grandmother wasn't here to tell her how weak and modern she was, and how the new generation needed a good war to stiffen its spine.

Michael loved jogging in the winter. Keeping your footing was often harder, sure, but that just made it more exciting. The important thing was you didn't sweat as much. In general, it was just much harder to get too hot, running. Really let you enjoy your morning tea, afterward.

Obviously you had to stay off walks that hadn't been cleaned of snow or seen it get nicely trampled. Losing most of the paths in the park was unfortunate.

This morning was just about perfect. It wasn't so warm that there was fresh snowmelt, but neither was it unbearably cold. The cloudless sky, pre-dawn light, and snow-covered fields allowed a magically illuminated neighborhood. His breath wasn't even fogging up his glasses.

This all made it quite easy to check out Julia as she left for work. Michael did not envy schoolteachers, having to head out at this hour. Julia's particular selection of informal attire was very flattering.

Timing was everything: ask her out too soon and she'd be thinking too much about her Ex, still. Too late, and he'd probably be beaten to it. One of her colleagues at the school was definitely sweet on her. Maybe next week.