Gemotions

The chipped mug rattled in Liam's hand. He hadn't even finished pouring the tea, but his fingers were locked, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. "But… but… what if it chews the furniture?" he stammered, his voice thin and reedy. Rain lashed against the window, mirroring the torrent of dread he felt. He stared at Mark, whose face was illuminated by the warm glow of the kitchen, and imagined a tiny, sharp-toothed demon tearing their lives apart, starting with the couch. His breath came in shallow, panicked gasps.

Mark sighed, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "Liam, we've been over this. It's a goldfish. It's not going to demolish the apartment." Liam’s vision blurred. The goldfish bowl, he knew, would become a monument to their shared doom.

He fumbled for the tea and spilled some on the counter, the warm liquid doing nothing to soothe his clammy skin. "The responsibility!" he wailed, clutching at his chest. "I couldn't… I wouldn't be able to…!"