Death of a fish.

After much hesitation and a careful study of the specimen I decided Mother was right, it’s time someone dispose if it. Two weeks have gone by since the fish died in the pond out back, and only one since my mother arrived home early from holiday.
The poor dear broke her ankle while strolling through Central Park, with Father and Brother.
I have not told her that a week has already gone by since it died, the goliath of a gold fish, the king of our pond.
I first noticed it resting belly up in the shade of a plant growing out from the side of the pond. And there is rested still, it’s gills motionless and it’s back bent, so only the right fin and a portion of its lower body remained exposed to the intense summer heat.
I had refused on a number of accounts, to remove him from the pond, thinking somehow he’d magically disappear. But he did not, and father was not due back for another week.
So, reluctantly, I grabbed a pare of prongs from the kitchen drawer and a paper bag from the pantry.
I figured paper would be better than plastic…that way I would have to only look at it’s decomposing body once: as I was fishing it out of the pond, no pun intended.
I cannot believe how big it is, “that is not a gold fish, I don’t know what it is, but it is not a gold fish,” I told my mom while leaving her room and heading towards the backyard.
I stood their staring at it a moment, and then bent down.
The closer I got to it the stronger the stench, and a swarm of fly’s gathered the moment I probed the thing with the prongs.
I grabbed the fish, and as I pulled it from the now murky water to place it in the bag, it’s entire head fell off and sank to the bottom of the pond leaving a couple of bright orange and yellow scales glistening in the sun as they floated on the waters surface.
I immediately felt queasy; lucky I don’t puke on impulse.
The other half is now in the big green dumpster on the curb out front waiting to be carried away to some horrible land fill along with everything else no one wants.
I used to bury these things, with respect and a couple of tears. But now, I just want them as far away from me as possible, my how the times have changes.
I haven’t told my mom that I only managed to get half the thing out of the pond, but then again, I don’t think that is really necessary, do you?