no such thing

there is a girl locked in a room with blood dripping from her mouth. she smears it on the wall, coating her fingertips. she keeps repeating that jesus is coming for her.

hundreds of miles away, a man is buying a fish. unknowingly, he pays too much for it. he is unaware that it will not make a good meal.

on the other side of the room, there is something in the corner. it makes the girl scream. cement, cold and uncaring, does not comfort her.

the man takes the fish home to his wife. she sees it and begins to cry. apparently, this fish cannot be used to cook dinner. the man's face falls, and he wishes he could feed his wife. turning and walking silently away, he is crying on the inside.

oily and dirt-stained, a scrap of paper keeps to itself in the corner. screaming has died down into quiet sobbing. the ink is blurred, but the writing is still readable. scrawled in black is the message: "my body, my blood, my heart."

a stream, gurgling quietly, runs through the town. the man stands, watching it, carrying the fish. slowly, he kneels beside the water. holding his hands out before him ceremoniously, he lowers the fish in. it enters without sound. the man has freed it, given it a second chance. the fish floats on top of the stream, unmoving. it is dead.