Semblance of a Story
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Semblance of a Story
A clown fish peeped out of an anemone, then ducked back inside. Aisha stayed unnaturally still on the prow of the ship, waiting for the tiny creature to decide it was safe to venture out. After it had darted off in search of a meal, she looked at Robert.
``I thought I owned the slaves in that hold,`` Robert said. ``I thought you all animals. It seems a cruel fate that I only learned in death how wrong I was. And fifty years later, at that.``
Aisha smiled. Fifty years to the day. ``Has it ever occurred to you that we got stuck here for a reason? Hundreds of souls perished on this ship. You don't see any of them moping about. So why are we here, Robert?``
His watery eyes focused on her and his forehead wrinkled. ``I'd never considered it,`` he said. ``You're right. You must be here for a reason. Without you, I never would have learned of my own wickedness. Is that why you are here, Aisha? Are you my torment?``
``Good god, you're slow,`` Aisha said, stretching. ``Fifty years? Seriously? There's rules against blabbing in the first fifty or I would have laid it out for you decades ago. No wonder you convinced yourself people were animals. Not much going on up top. Anyway, enjoy eternity.`` Aisha left him there, staring out at his watery grave, without even a clown fish for company.